Turkey Day -aka- The Folly of Friendship
by Hunger4Righteousness
Summary: Minion's in a holiday quandary at Thanksgiving and enlists Roxanne's unwilling help on what should be her day off, but what will her unprecedented presence at the Lair sans rope lead to? Chapter 4: Christmas Eve
1. SOS, Ms Ritchi!

_**From SapphireGirl93:** Hey there fan friends! Before we get any farther, this fic requires a little bit of back-story. __About a month ago, my dear friend Hunger4Righteousness and I decided it would be fun set a challenge for ourselves; not in the spirit of competition but to have fun working on a story together to see what we come up with._

_We started off with a short prompt… just a quick bit of dialogue, and we were going to pass the story back and forth to see where it ended up. Before we got started we needed to agree on a basic storyline, but we both came up with our own ideas that we just didn't want to let go of. In the end, we decided the best way to go would be for each of us to write our own story based on that one prompt, and to have as much fun with it and entertain each other as much as possible._

_Our stories were supposed to be uploaded in time for Thanksgiving, but both Hunger and I have busy families and very full plates, and in the process of working on this project, real-life hit us both pretty hard and pulled us away. So yeah; we're late… but hey, it's still the holidays so these fics should fit in nicely!_

_There are a few things you'll find as you read that'll be veeeery similar about our stories. The prompt (of course), a kidnapping, and something we both agreed any good Thanksgiving story just has to have…_

_**From Hunger:** All I can add is… I'm sorry for my part being late (once again – it's getting to be a bad habit, ain't it?), but it's been an atrociously crazy time here. Expecting a baby in a few weeks at the conclusion of a fairly challenging pregnancy has given me a case of babybrainitis worse than I've ever experienced. Mush, I tell you. Add to that spending a few days in the hospital with my son for head trauma following an accident and nursing him through some recovery time, getting ready for Christmas… and various other little lovely incidents here and there. Ah well. It could be worse. It could always be worse. But writing hasn't made my list of priorities for a while now. Even though I miss it dearly._

_After sharing those initial ideas and a bit of dialogue I'd set down ages ago and forgotten about, we retired to our respective corners to write. I haven't even gotten to read dear SG93's fic yet – although I'm sure it's mahvelous – so it'll be interesting to see where the two stories ended up similar and different. I've told myself I can go read hers after I'm finished with mine! Which at this point may be longer away than I'd like it to be, but I'll do my best. In typical fashion I've messed around with this longer than I should, and so it's time to just take the plunge and get it started._

* * *

"Yeah… about that. Um, look, Wayne. I think I'll pass on Thanksgiving this year."

Her shoulders rose as she cringed and clutched the phone tighter, half expecting him to give her a hard time and refuse to take no for an answer.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "My mom's really starting to get to you, isn't she?"

_Oh wow. Is it that obvious?_ Walking into the kitchen, she grabbed the refrigerator door handle. "Well…"

"I know," the deep voice conceded. "I know how she is. I can't blame you."

"Don't get me wrong!" Opening the door, Roxanne leaned down to peer in at the sparse pickings. "She's… she's a sweetheart! Always so… generous. But, um… the 'Brides' magazines left out in the most obvious places?" She rolled her eyes. "That's getting to be a little much. And does she always have to ask when I'm going to grow my hair out longer?"

"Hey, look. It's fine, Roxie."

_There is absolutely nothing to eat in there. I knew I should have gone to the store. And now it'll be a complete madhouse._ Only the most desperate braved the mobs to go get groceries on Thanksgiving Day. She straightened up again, relieved at least that her supposed boyfriend understood her feelings. Like the rest of the city even his parents assumed that the working relationship they observed proved they were an item, and over time it was becoming more and more obvious how much Wayne's mother had her hopes pinned on Roxanne as a potential daughter-in-law. She was uncomfortably toying with the idea of saying that maybe it was about time they clue them in and let them down easy when he spoke up again.

"But, what should I tell her? She's going to be worried sick about where you're having Thanksgiving today."

"Well, just tell her I'm going home."

"Are you?"

"Phfft- no!" she laughed. "You think your mom's bad? My mother would eat yours in two bites. Gah! Always talking about my biological clock and stuff. I mean, come on! Who wants to make a trip home just to hear that?" Hours of trying to find something other than premature Christmas tunes on the radio plus car sickness to go and get pestered for the rest of the day about still being single? _If I wanted that, I'd go to his house and at least save myself the trip. _She opened the freezer. _This is pathetic_. "No, I'll just stay home. Here home. You know Megamind always takes the day off. It's about time I had a good, lazy, stay-at-home, shuffle around in my slippers kind of day."

"No turkey?" His voice held a note of disbelief.

She reached deep into the thick frost lined icebox and extracted a potpie. "Oh, yeah!" she reassured him as she flipped the box over to find the expiration date. "Yeah, don't worry about me. I'll make myself a little feast right here and celebrate on my own."

"You sure?"

"Yep! Veeery sure."

"Ok, then." She could almost hear him shrug. "Have a good one. And I'll see you next week."

"I'm sure you will," she agreed dryly, bumping the door closed again with her shoulder. She'd been dreading the yearly audience at the Scott home all week and now, feeling as though she'd just dodged a bullet, a sudden euphoric sense of freedom buoyed her up. "Have a happy Thanksgiving, Wayne!"

"You too. Happy Thanksgiving, Roxie."

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, she was pulling the little foil pan of unevenly brown crust and bubbling chickeny goop from the oven, carefully balancing it on one mitted hand as she slowly shuffled to the couch. Wayne would be sitting down to an enormous feast about now created entirely by 'the help' of course at the Scott family compound.

Easing down into a corner of the cushions, she reached for the remote to resume her movie with a little sigh of contentment. It was so nice to have the day off, even if it felt oddly empty without the usual pressure and interference of family or even a certain blue villain. In the back of her mind she wondered what the other half was doing to celebrate. Why did those two nuts always take Thanksgiving off anyway? How did they celebrate? Did they need time to whip up their own festive spread? She huffed to herself. It's not like they'd be entertaining a big crowd. Unless you counted the brainbot crew gathered around watching everything with their blinking red eyes as usual.

Oh well. Today was not for speculating about villains. If they were going to take the day off from her, she would from them too. Entirely. She smiled, pressing the top of the crust down into the gravy with a fork. And not even this weak excuse for a Turkey Day dinner was going to dim the enjoyment of having a secure few hours all alone with her own thoughts and the kind of sleep-inducing Clint Eastwood western she used to watch with her dad. Glancing up at the screen as the popping of gunfire broke out in the OK Corral, she took a deep breath and blew on the pie steaming in her hand, absentmindedly pushing its contents around a little. She took another deep breath…

And with an effort, slowly opened her eyes to see the inside of her apartment and TV had been replaced by a pair of wide brown orbs filling her field of vision.

"Ohhh…" she groaned in disbelief, still groggy but recognizing the sight and ready to break out in vociferous complaining. "Minion! Come ON! What the-"

"Shh! Shhh!" the fish hushed her, glancing somewhere back over his shoulder. "I know… I know! I know this is supposed to be your day off, but…" The round eyes swiveled her way once again, soulfully pleading. "Please, Ms Ritchi. I really need your help!"

The agitated state of the usually cheerful sidekick gave her pause immediately, mouth still open, the stream of complaints halted mid-gripe. _Need my help?_ What immediately came to mind was that something had happened to the fish's dastardly blue boss, the possibility of which actually gave her a moment of concern.

Then her mouth snapped closed as she blinked and eyed him more closely. It could be a trick. It could be they'd decided that after years of conditioning the city to expect to not have to deal with Thanksgiving Day heists, it was the perfect time to actually be unpredictable and pull off something that would really catch everyone off guard. She tried to read Minion's face - he was often more readable than Megamind was - but he only stood there watching her with concern. And finally as the effects of the spray wore off completely, she realized that although she was sitting in a chair as usual, her hands were not bound in any way but hung loose at her sides. She raised them in mild surprise. Even her oven mitt was still in place.

Satisfied she was awake enough that she wasn't going to fall off her seat, Minion stepped back, wringing his hands a little while she looked around, still wondering. She wasn't anywhere that resembled the usual sort of staging area they prepped for Megamind's showdowns. And she didn't see the man himself around either. Actually it looked like she was in a… kitchen, of all things. Gleaming stainless steel countertops and equipment populated the sparse, industrial looking space. Obviously it wasn't an area that was often used. But everything appeared to be clean and well appointed despite the evidence of work now in progress. Then taking a few sniffs she involuntarily wrinkled her nose.

"Yeah," the uncomfortable fish drawled. "About that… um. Could you help me?"

Roxanne cocked an eyebrow up at the aquatic creature in the mecha suit towering over her. What was this all about? Before she could even broach the first of a series of questions, Minion continued in a more hurried tone.

"Sir's got a bee in his bonnet about having a 'real' Thanksgiving dinner this year. And he expects ME to cook it! And I don't know what I'm doing! Why does he always think he can give me things to do that I've never even tried before, and I'll just have it all figured out in no time?" He shook his head and frowned. "Those stupid cooking shows he watches. _They_ make it all look so easy. 'Just follow the directions!' " he suddenly mimicked his boss ungraciously.

Roxanne would have laughed if she hadn't been so shocked at the telltale sign of his frustration. He never criticized his boss outright.

" 'How hard can it be?' " he continued in the same tone before answering himself. "It could be just about freakin' impossible! I'm no chef. I'm a programmer! I barely ever even make us sandwiches. My favorite kitchen appliance is the phone so I can call for take out! But suddenly he expects-"

"When did he tell you-" she began to interrupt.

"Today!" he fired back. "Like," he shrugged, "an _hour_ ago! Nobody could have a whole huge feast ready to eat in that amount of time!" He paused, suddenly unsure. "Could they?"

_He's asking me?_ "I- uh, I don't know, Minion. I think Thanksgiving preparations usually start before the morning of. I guess."

"I knew it!" He groaned aloud. "He can be SO difficult sometimes!" the poor sidekick complained bitterly, metal hands raised to the sides of his watery dome in despair. Then he dropped them again self-consciously. "You won't tell him I said that, will you?"

Roxanne guffawed. "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me." _Like no one's ever thought of Megamind as difficult before._ She looked around again, taking more careful note of the state of the kitchen and the evidence of his attempts to prepare a Thanksgiving dinner.

The closest thing to her was a mountain of far more potatoes than two people needed, waiting to be peeled. A few had fallen to the floor and apparently rolled merrily about in their freedom. She could imagine Minion kicking them around as he moved here and there, trying to make heads or tales of what he was supposed to be doing. Further along the countertop, a pile of bread and rolls huddled together kept company by a bunch of celery and some onions. _Homemade stuffing?_ she guessed. _That's ambitious._ Even her mother had often resorted to the boxed variety. A couple large pots bubbled and steamed on a huge stove. One sputtered and spat a foamy liquid from under its lid. The other she could only guess at the contents of by the red color of the stuff running steadily down the side, sending up wisps of smoke as it steadily burned. _Is that... jello?_ Over at the sink, water was running into a bowl. As she looked, a plump red cranberry escaped over the rim and disappeared down the drain. And nearby squatted a pumpkin, still whole, with a dozen eggs and a bag or two of flour. One had been opened, dusting the counter in white. But presiding over all, an enormous raw turkey sat looking as daunting as Kilimanjaro. She began to feel mildly alarmed. "But Minion… why-?"

"Why you? I'm sorry, Ms Ritchi, I really am. I _know_ this is supposed to be a day off for you. Sir insists on it every year." He bent before her slightly with clasped hands, speaking in a strained and confidential tone. "And believe me he won't be at all happy if he finds out I actually brought you here. But… but… you can help me, right?" he pleaded eagerly with a slight nod before continuing to beg. "I didn't know who else to go to! And as soon as we're done, I promise I'll take you right back home."

That was what she had been afraid of. Basically she was here because she was the only person he knew of to turn to for help.

"You won't even have to see Sir," he assured her. "In fact… I _can't_ let you see him."

"Minion. Um, I hate to tell you this, but… _I _don't know how to do this either."

He straightened and looked at her blankly a moment. "But you're a woman."

Roxanne's laugh rang out quick and sharp, knowing he had blurted out that statement without thinking. _These two are so sheltered. _"Yes, Minion, that is true. But that doesn't really have anything to do with it. Women aren't born with some innate ability to cook."

The poor fish was blushing furiously, having immediately realized how what he'd said sounded. He fumbled a bit. "I know, but… Uh, well, I guess I assumed that… I mean, you're so competent in so many ways, Ms Ritchi. And you were baking something when I picked you up." He pointed at the oven mitt still on her hand. "I just assumed…"

Now it was the reporter's turn to feel the heat rise in her cheeks a little. For some reason she hated to give this foe of hers any reason to have a lesser opinion of her. Her mother had warned her that someday she would wish she had paid more attention to developing her skill set in the kitchen, but at the time her teenaged ego had easily dismissed the nugget of wisdom. Her plans for the future didn't involve much time spent in a setting like this. None, in fact. Her number one goal was the career she'd chosen, and culinary arts had not made much of a presence on her list of personal goals.

Now, after years of overpriced take out and over processed frozen dinners following a long day at work when she really hungered for the warmth and comfort of some healthy home cooking, she found it irked her to admit that maybe her mother had been right. Again… darn it all. "Yeah, well. I've been busy with other things. Cooking and baking haven't been high on my list of priorities."

"Oh crap…" Minion seemed to deflate before her eyes, fins clapped tight to his sides and a blankly worried look appearing on his flat little face once again. "Great. Now what am I going to do?" He turned to survey the kitchen forlornly.

"Just tell him it can't be done," she shrugged.

He looked back at her swiftly. "You don't understand. That's not something you say to Sir. Ever." He looked around again at the evidence that proved what she'd said was true nonetheless. "And if I don't magically make this… perfect idea he has of Thanksgiving appear soon, you don't know what he'll be like."

The reporter frowned, thinking he might be suggesting his boss would turn violent. That didn't seem right to her, even for the man who claimed to be the baddest bad guy around, but…

"He'll sulk and he'll mope, and he'll be impossible to live with. The entire day!" Once again he threw his hands up as he lamented. "And he'll blame me, of course. And he'll start talking about… well, never mind that, but he'll be nothing but a complete grump. The bots will get cranky and snappy. They always pick up on how he feels. And our whole holiday will be ruined! Then, oh sure, later on he'll try to pretend that it was all no big deal, but by that time I'll actually feel guilty for letting him down…" He seemed very sad. "It might be _your_ day off, but it's supposed to be one for us too." He scowled. "Except that _I _never actually get a day off!"

Frowning over the revelation of what the poor sidekick put up, she felt a stab of pity for him, the long-suffering lackey for such a demanding and self-centered figure.

Finally Minion sighed in resignation, reaching behind himself for the can of knock-out spray he kept onboard amongst his usual tools of the trade. "I guess I'll just take you back home now."

"Now wait," Roxanne suddenly spoke up. _Surely I can do something for him. _He'd done plenty for her. It was Minion whom she always saw looking to her comfort through all the many kidnappings. She tried hard to dredge up a remnant of the knowledge her mother had tried to impart when she had been unwillingly roped into helping her in the kitchen each holiday. "Do you have a cookbook?"

Tentatively, he brightened. "Yeah. I do. Do you mean-"

"Don't get your hopes up, ok? But let's see what we can do." She looked around, feeling uncertain. "Maybe we can salvage something of all this..."

"Yes!" he cheered with a relieved grin that brightened his face considerably. "Oh, thank you, Ms Ritchi! You don't know what this means to me."

She smiled back weakly, wishing he wouldn't think quite so much of her offer. But she rose from her seat and together they began to pour over the kitchen manual on the countertop he'd gestured toward.

* * *

A _real_ Thanksgiving dinner. His mouth was watering in anticipation already, and he rubbed his gloved hands together. Roast turkey, crisp and golden brown on a giant platter. All the trimmings around it. That's what it was all about. His stomach growled impatiently, and the pace of the black boots quickened a little. Visions of Minion in that silly apron of his, presiding over a warm and glowing scene reminiscent of one of Martha Stewart's production sets, turning toward him with a welcoming smile as he stirred something delicious, maybe offering him a taste, spurred him on. Anticipation of steaming pots wafting comforting smells his way and gentle bubbling sounds promising further gastronomic delights brought a dreamy smile to his lips as he pushed the door to the kitchen open.

Slowly his face fell as he surveyed the scene of chaos. His faithful sidekick stood staring at him wide-eyed, backed against one bank of cabinets that lined the large space. A strong hint of acrid burning assailed his nostrils, curling his lip and creasing his blue brow.

"Minion! What the-"

"Heh, heh… now, Sir… It's not as bad as it looks. It's just that you've caught me in the thick of things here," the fish waved one hand at the work in progress. "And even though things aren't quite ready yet, I'm sure w- I! I'll have it all fixed up in no time. Just need a few more minutes... or… maybe just a little longer," his voice trailed weakly away.

The lean figure was barely listening, slowly walking around, eyeing the uncooked food and peering under lids with a look of bald skepticism, once drawing back with a wince and a few coughs. "A few minutes?! You couldn't fix this in a few days! Just exactly what have you been doing all this time?" He cast a doubtful eye on the turkey, naked and untouched.

"Well," the offended creature bridled. "I told you! This isn't as easy as it looks. And-"

"Now, come on, Minion." With a swish of the cape, the self-proclaimed genius spun around and folded his arms with an expression of condescending patience. It was a look that always made his sidekick grit his teeth in annoyance. "It's not like this is rocket science," he chided with the gesture of one slender hand toward the oven. "It's mere _cookery_. Any idiot could do it. You've seen those people on TV." The half-hooded eyes regarded the fish superiorly as he shook his head. "Really. I expected more from you."

A thump from behind the tight-lipped fish startled them both. Minion's brown eyes took on a look of alarm as he tried to cover the muffled mumbling that now arose from the cupboard he was leaning against. He raised one metallic fist to his dome and coughed loudly several times. "You're right, Sir. I - I'm sure I can do this. Just need to read that cookbook a _little_ more carefully and… I probably just misread some of the directions!" He coughed again and gave the countertop a resounding slap as the commotion grew louder and the door jumped, held closed by his leg. "Now if you'll just excuse me… I'll get right back to work. Why don't you go relax? Go… uh, check the monitors or something? Throw the bots some wrenches. Maybe toy with that, um, that new amnesia bomb you were working on. I just need to… clear away a few of these things, and then I'm sure I'll be able to-"

Scowling down at the apparently possessed kitchen unit Minion was blocking with his bulky form and all too obviously ignoring, Megamind leaned down suddenly and pulled the door open himself. He staggered back a step or two with a yelp, heart pounding, as a familiar face popped out at him as quick as a jack in the box. "You! You, you big… BULLY!"

If he hadn't been so surprised, he would have laughed. Who would ever have thought to apply the term '_big_ bully' to him, the little underdog from the prison who had always been the butt of his classmates' cruel treatment, even that one the city now proclaimed the champion of justice? Of course Roxanne wouldn't know the details of those long-ago encounters, but that she should slip up in thinking of a more fitting insult to apply to him only served to illustrate how upset she was.

The wide green eyes slid sideways from the set jaw and florid face, flour lightly dusting one cheek, of his long time victim to his mortified henchman. "What is going on here, Minion?" he demanded, gesturing toward the unexpected guest with a thumb. "You'd better have a-"

"And YOU'd better stop picking on him!" Roxanne advanced a step, stabbing a finger into his chest. "This is the only way he knew of to get the help he needed! Obviously _you_ weren't going to lower yourself to-"

Only overwhelming astonishment allowed him to react to anything other than her invasion of his personal space. Astonishment that she was here, that his little friend had taken the initiative to seek her out, that she appeared to be standing up for him despite all that. "You went and kidnapped Roxanne? Without telling me? And brought her _here_? _Today_? Minion!" The shoulders drooped in disbelief while he continued to ignore the reporter's tirade. "_What_ were you _thinking_?!"

"-do any of the work yourself! It may not be rocket science, Mr. I'm-such-a-genius-I-can't-even-fix-myself-a-sandwich, but it isn't as easy as you think it is! And if you-"

"This a betrayal! What about my record?! I had a perfect record! No kidnappings on Thanksgiving! Now look what you've done! And besides that, she's _here_! In the Lair! In MY kitchen! You know what she's like! She's bound to-"

"-think you're going to sit around on your _be_hind like some useless… _king_! Doing squat, while we make this whole stupid feast all for you, you have another thing coming, buddy! I wouldn't let-"

"You've really let me down this time, Minion." The blue lips pouted and black brows dropped as he swayed and rocked on his heels slightly from the increasingly violent finger stabs being doled out by the indignant lady beside him. "This is the end! I can't believe you _ruined_ my Thanksgiving this way. I will never forget this- "

Minion looked from one to the other in disbelief. "Ok! Time out!" he finally shouted, gaining their attention and abruptly turning off the noise with the typical referee's gesture. Both faces looked his way. "Sir, I'm sorry. It was a bad idea, I guess. And, Ms Ritchi," he addressed the reporter. "I'll take you back home now. I'm sorry to you too."

"Yes," the offended villain sniffed. "Take her back. I assume she hasn't been here long, and so we'll just say this doesn't count. Call it a do-over. And my record will still be clean. Then you-"

"No."

The alien duo cast their eyes simultaneously on their truculent guest. Roxanne looked from the blue face to the green. "I'm not leaving," she stated flatly.

"What?"

"That's exactly what he wants," she ignored Megamind to address Minion. "And once I do, he'll go right back to making demands of you. On what _should_ be your day off too." She glared at Megamind pointedly. "So. I'm staying." Her body language dared them to disagree.

The corners of Megamind's blue lips turned down in consternation. Being given a pass to leave, she was demanding to… stay? He resisted the urge to scratch his smooth head, and rallied instead with a return to his best superior attitude, standing straight and tall, attempting to gain control of the situation again.

"Oh really?" he parried suavely. "Spunky is as spunky does, _Ms. Ritchi_. But you're on my turf here. Don't think that I can't make you leave as easily as snapping my fin-" As he tried to illustrate his point with a quick flick of his fingertips, he was startled once more by having them grabbed and silenced by one of the perky reporter's pale hands.

"Do you want Thanksgiving dinner or not?" she demanded hotly, her face close to his.

"Uh…"

"Minion can't do it all himself," she emphasized each word, looking hard into the startled green eyes. She spoke crisply, surprised at herself. Why did this drama she wasn't even part of stir up such intense feelings inside her? And boldness? Here she was not only getting in the infuriating criminal's face, but she'd made bodily contact with him in an attempt at intimidation twice now. _What is up with me today?_ "He needs help. Enough that he risked bringing me here without your express permission to get it. So if you want your fancy Thanksgiving feast, I suggest you rethink sending me home."

Distracted by the feeling of her fingers around his – _hmmm, nice… warm…_ - it took a moment before he registered what she was saying. "Oh fine," he conceded loftily, turning on his heel the moment she dropped his hand. "Stay then." He sauntered away, unfurling one set of black gloved fingers in the air over his shoulder as though to suggest it meant nothing to him after all. "But!" He suddenly spun around to point and glare at her. "If you so much as attempt to stick your pert little nose outside this room and go snooping around my e-vil secrets, I'll have my brainbo-"

"Oh, _you're_ not leaving either."

He snapped upright, immediately sober. "Come again?"

"I said," she emphasized each word deliberately. "You are not leaving this kitchen." One hand rested on the flare of her hip while the other held a wooden spoon which she tapped in the air a couple times to make her point. "You want a feast? …You're going to help make it."

He stared blankly at her for several seconds. Then with a huffing laugh, he slapped his leg. "Yeah, right…! I-"

"If any idiot can cook, how big of an idiot must you be to refuse to try doing it at all," she taunted loftily, "_Mega-_mind?"

His eyes narrowed. _Ok, now that was a personal challenge_. He began to stalk back her way, his steps slow and menacing. Minion's eyes widened as he leaned against the relative safety of the cabinets behind him, but Roxanne stood her ground, coolly watching the figure in leather and spikes advance.

He pointed a finger toward his bulbous head. "You think I can't do something as simple as this? No one comes close to my level of intelligence. No one can match my ability to plan. No one has created what I HAVE CREATED! No one calls me an _idiot_! I am the greatest mind on the planet!" he practically shouted into her face when he'd reached her, his finger raised in the air, attempting to tower over her on his toes.

Unmoved, Roxanne slapped the wooden spoon flat against his chest. "Prove it."

His emerald eyes stared into her icy blue ones, steadily staring back without flinching. The fact that she appeared in no way intimidated or, even more surprising, repulsed by his nearness did something to him. Against his better judgment he was impressed. And for some reason… excited. He wasn't sure how to deal with such a response. Conflicting urges rose up inside him - to distance himself, to run away from her, refuse to be drawn into this battle of wills… or to lean closer and see just how far he could push her. His eyes flicked sideways in appeal to his back up, but Minion stood transfixed by the scene, mouth hanging open in disbelief, fins slowly waving, offering no help at all. _Useless guppy._ Gradually relaxing back onto his heels, he swiped the spoon from her hand. "Fine. I will."

"Good then. Let's get started," she said, turning back to the cookbook.

Nervously his fingers tightened around the handle of the unfamiliar utensil and a hunted look crossed his features now that their lovely captive's back was turned. _I'm going to look like a total idiot in here._

Roxanne tried to concentrate on the written instructions on the page before her, but her thoughts had turned inward as well. _What the heck am I doing? I don't even know where to start! He's going to find out I have no clue how to do all this in about two seconds. And then what?_ Cursing her overdeveloped sense of justice for the underdog, she hoped Minion was grateful for the way she'd stood up for him. _Because I am about to fall flat on my face._


	2. Thanksgiving, Hatfield and McCoy Style

_Yikes, overly long chapter. I'm sorry. Couldn't find a good place to break it. So you just get it all. Thanks for the reviews on chapter one. I sure miss hearing from you all and wish I had the time to respond to each one individually. Just know that I appreciate it._

* * *

"Arrgh, my hand is cramping up! …fingers about to fall off… can't go on… Can I stop yet?"

Roxanne looked over to where Megamind was peeling spuds. "You've done three whole potatoes. Wow." She shook her head. "Keep going. That's not enough." The funny thing was she could hear herself whining the same complaints once upon a time. She'd hated peeling potatoes. It was one of the reasons she'd given the job to him.

"And they're slippery." He squeezed the vegetable harder than necessary, making it shoot out from between his fingers and skitter across the floor. He glanced her way to see if his point was made.

"I told you to take those gloves off," she murmured without looking, struggling to pierce the pumpkin's rind. She stopped to raise a brow at him. "You're not afraid of getting your hands dirty, are you?"

"No!" he protested indignantly, the blue lips forming a little pout that she would even suggest such a thing.

"Good." She returned to straining to cut through the incredibly hard vegetable. "Make sure you wash them too."

"The potatoes or my hands?"

She stopped again and sighed over his incessant questions. "Both." Then muttering under her breath, she added, "Considering that I've never seen you _without_ those gloves on and considering the number of times you've dropped that potato thinking that was going to make me let you quit…"

Glowering, he realized the jig was up and did as she said. "Brainbot!" A cyborg appeared and removed his gloves, flying away with them again. He stole a few glances at the red-faced reporter wrestling with the enormous pie ingredient as he washed thoroughly. "I happen to like gloves. They protect my hands." He held up his clean blue fingers, examining them carefully before looking at her again. "Which do plenty of important and dangerous type work, I might add!"

"Well good for you. I'm sure they're…" Grunting, she gave a mighty pull on the knife, barely moving it. "As soft as a…" Gritting her teeth, she gave another strained effort. "Baby's butt." With a gasp, she stopped again, having only managed to sink the large kitchen blade into the top and about partway way down the side of the thing.

Drying his hands, he eyed her while she stood considering how to better tackle the monster. "Let me try." This would be a good chance to repair his image. How hard could slicing through squash be? He moved closer and rubbed his hands. "This looks like a job for the man of the house. And since this _is_ _my_ house…" he reminded her loftily.

Roxanne stepped back. "Be my guest."

"Noooo, _you_ are _my_ guest."

She rolled her eyes over his need to constantly prove he had the upper hand. "Being a guest usually implies there's willing attendance."

"Hmph. You were the one who insisted on staying."

She bit her tongue, knowing he was right, and watched as he took hold of the handle of the large knife sticking out from the side of the silent orange beast. _Blue. Wow, those are some blue hands._ She had never seen his hands uncovered, and the sight of them drew her fascinated attention.

Contrary to what she had teased and the amount of time she assumed they spent inside his signature leather gloves, they didn't look soft and unused. His fingers were slender, nails cut carefully smooth and blunt. But there was nothing weak-looking about them. They appeared quite wiry and strong. Certainly not as beefy as the professionally manicured and super oversized mitts of the city's hero with which she was well acquainted. Whether you wanted to be or not, when you spent a fair amount of time being picked up and flown around by someone, you got to know their hands.

Now that she thought about it, she and Megamind had actually spent quite a bit of time in close proximity like this… but without touching. Almost ever. Not voluntarily and certainly not skin to skin. Except for his head, he had always kept himself well-covered. She found herself staring at his hands as he gripped the knife tighter and gritted his teeth with effort. _Stop staring_, she told herself, licking her lips self-consciously as she glanced away, but feeling her eyes drift right back again. He wasn't so different from other people. The longer she looked, the stronger became the desire to reach out and gently take hold of one so she could examine it. It grew and grew until she was uncomfortable with how much she itched to touch them – and how clearly she could imagine running her fingertips over the texture of that blue skin and the finely corded muscles underneath. Obviously he was used to doing some of his work himself…

"Guh!" he gasped to a halt. "_What_ is it made of?" He eyed the thing closely. "Concrete? Any pie that comes out of this thing would break teeth!"

"Here, let me help," she offered, reaching for the knife.

"No, no… I can do it," he protested.

"Why do you always have to be so proud?" she complained. "Look, just let me help."

He stopped to regard her thoughtfully. "All right. Fine."

She moved closer. Much closer. Until her shoulder was against his. And suddenly he seemed to be seeing her hands moving over the top of his in a kind of slow motion… and felt a distinct flutter of nervousness. She was going to touch him. Deliberately! Nobody touched him. Not if they could help it. Not his _skin_. Why wasn't she as repulsed as everybody else? As her hands first brushed and then rested on top of his, alighting there very gently, he melted a little inside, feeling his shoulders, his very spine, seem to relax at the sensation.

They were so feminine, her hands… so soft and smooth. The subtle nail polish she always carefully applied highlighted their fine, pale color. How could just hands be that enchanting? And the way they felt… warm, soothing. The contrast with his own, in so many ways, was simply hypnotizing.

He could have happily stood there much longer, thinking about the way her hands felt touching his, but as an audible little sigh involuntarily escaped him he suddenly became aware of the way the corner of his mouth had curled up in a dreamy smile. He froze, wondering if she'd noticed, but her cool fingers, until now just resting on his, had begun to tighten, making her fingertips slide between his fingers a little. Lost as he'd been in his thoughts, he hadn't realized she was staring down at their hands as well until his glance slid her way. And there she was watching in fascination too. His eyes grew wider at the feeling of her gripping, slowly and gently. _She… she actually wanted to touch my hands…_

It was all too alarmingly… arousing.

Jerking himself back to reality, he grasped the handle under his palms tight, even tighter than before, hoping to forget the feelings she had stirred up by once again joining combat with this troublesome garden produce. Why did it insist on making a fool of him? Gritting his teeth, he imagined stepping back and pulling the de-gun instead, putting the thing out of its misery once and for all, but that wouldn't get him pumpkin pie.

Curiosity, he told himself coldly, was the reason for her decision to make contact. _Yes, that's it_. _That's why she stayed too._ He fully expected to see her later in one of those 'personal angle' news stories, entertaining the mindless masses by recalling her morning spent with the two criminal bachelors bumbling around in their kitchen, relating what it had been like to actually touch the city's infamous alien pariah. Well. He would make sure he didn't give her any material to work with.

Together they pulled down as hard as they could, finally sensing the blade slowly ripping downward with a quiet tearing sound. When it stopped on the countertop, they pulled their hands away at the same time.

"That is simply way too much work for pie." His mouth watered at the word. He did like pie. "You know…" He stopped, realizing if he suggested the idea he'd suddenly thought of outright, she would most likely refuse it. He frowned as he asked, "What exactly do you want done to this thing?"

She gestured at the cookbook. "It needs to be cut open, all the seeds and goop taken out, peeled, and cut in chunks so I can cook it."

"Brainbot!"

The bot that instantly appeared had been instructed before she could even begin to protest, and she watched open-mouthed as the ovular droid produced a blade from under its dome and proceeded to split the large round squash in half with one loud crack. Then they watched as the entire vegetable was prepared just the way Roxanne needed it within moments. "Wow," she commented despite herself. "That's… handy."

"Of course," he shrugged, lifting his striped chin a little higher at her grudging admiration of his creation. "Why else would I have created them?"

"I thought it was to do your evil bidding."

"And it just did," he replied smugly.

"I'd hardly call fixing vegetables evil."

"Obviously you've never eaten the prison's broccoli."

"Look, why didn't you just have _them_ cook your meal?" She motioned to the hovering helper who still waited, its glowing eye turning from one to the other.

"Well I can't program them to do something without knowing what to program in, can I? And-" He stopped short.

"And _you_ don't have any idea how to cook," she finished archly, making him scowl. She only smirked. "Ok, don't get your dander up. Nobody knows how to do everything, you know."

"I do not have dander!" he exclaimed, seeing her roll her eyes as she turned away. He ran a hand over his bare head absentmindedly. "But now that you mention it, with you here able to tell them what to do, I might as well just call them in and they'll take care of all this in no time. Then you can leave." _And leave me in peace_, he thought, still mildly disturbed by his feelings over what had taken place unspoken between them. Somehow, despite believing she would use it all against him, he didn't really want her to leave. But… it was her traditional day off. Surely she couldn't be happy about staying either. Once again he cursed his sidekick for derailing his plans and ruining his record.

"I don't think so," Roxanne demurred. "This is about more than just getting the meal made now." She hoped her assertion would gloss over the fact that she wouldn't be able to give the bots instructions either. She was flying by the seat of her pants as it was.

"It is? Why?" he asked in surprise.

"Because you need to acknowledge how hard this is. And you won't be able to do that without getting in here and helping. You were all ready to make Minion do all the work without even appreciating what goes into it. So… no. No brainbots." At hearing her own words, she had a sudden inkling about one source of the indignation she felt.

He folded his arms. "You can't tell me what to do."

She turned to look at him. "That's exactly why I'm here, remember? If you plan to celebrate Thanksgiving today."

He pouted. "Fine. But you're not making me feel very thankful."

"Feeling thankful is up to you." _Ugh. I sound just like my mother._ _Ok. What to do next. Where are we? Oh, yeah. The pie. And the mashed potatoes…_ _Forget his hands_, she told herself, reaching deep into her memory as well as consulting the cookbook, trying to juggle multiple steps for multiple dishes she had never made all on her own. "Ok, we need to cook these now… Oh, and I think as soon as you get enough potatoes done we can start boiling those too."

"They're ready."

She looked over at him doubtfully. "You only had three peeled last time I checked."

"Oh, I had a few more done than you thought." He tipped the pot her way until she could see it was half full.

"You had a bot do those," she accused him.

His only response was to stick out his tongue at her, very pink between his blue lips.

"Cheater," she muttered.

"Oh! Oh, that's so harsh! Ow! Right in the heart! Oh, the pain. I've never been so unjustly accused before…" he dramatized, clutching his chest and collapsing against the cupboard while she began putting all the pumpkin pieces in another pot, trying to ignore his histrionics. He picked up his own container and hurried to the sink, leaning close to murmur near her ear as he passed behind her. "Cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater."

"You're gonna be the one eating it in a minute here, bub," she muttered back, aware of more odd stirrings inside her that didn't bear acknowledging. How many times had she seen her father tease her mother that way, sneaking up behind her in the kitchen?

"Can't wait to see you make me," he hissed back, narrowing his eyes as he set his pot in the sink and ran the water, one hand clutching the belt that rode low on hips.

She hauled her load to the sink as well and stopped, facing off with him while waiting for her turn to use the faucet. _False accusations? Of course he had a bot do those. Do not think about his hands… _She immediately did._ Or that belt._ She began to blush, the heat creeping into her cheeks. Seeing it, his smirk slowly widened. Her face blushed harder, all the way to her ears, but she refused to drop her gaze. Desperately wishing she could gain control of the telltale response, she tried to distract him. "I think that's enough water."

"Nice peripheral vision." _And what a lovely, telling shade of pink your cheeks are, dear Roxanne._ Counting her highly colored face as his victory, he conceded to look away first and reached to turn off the water but not without flicking a finger up the stream first, sprinkling her.

With a gasp she jumped as the spray hit her face and chest. He'd done it so quickly she almost hadn't seen it happen. "Oh! You-!" She leaned over and quickly waved her hand through the water to splash him back, hearing him laugh.

Minion soon noticed the antagonists at the sink, his friend obviously getting a huge kick out of the contest judging by his low, rumbling chuckles. He couldn't be quite sure what the reporter's reaction was, but she was holding her own as they jostled each other, trying to direct the water to their advantage and at the same time getting and giving a soaking. "Hey! You're getting all the flour wet! Cut it out, you two!"

They stopped, watching the fish move a bag away from the sopping sink to safer ground, muttering to himself.

"You know, this _could_ actually be pleasant if you let it be. A lot of families enjoy making meals together."

"We're not exactly family… my dear," he dared to add. "And that was rather enjoyable, _I_ thought."

She pushed dripping bangs away from her face. "You just love being rotten, don't you?"

"Ah, ah! Flattery will get you nowhere," he chided, wiping his own lean visage and shaking the water from his hand to one side before brushing at his suit. "How long did it take you to figure that out?"

She pushed him with her shoulder. "Move it. It's my turn."

"Only if you ask _pleasantly_," he chided with a smirk that told her he was simply eating all the antagonism right up.

Toe to toe they stared each other down once more. "You are just impossible!" she complained before asking from between gritted teeth, "Please move."

"I think you can be a little nicer about it than that." He brought his face very close, looking pointedly at her lips, clearly enjoying ruffling her feathers. "If we're going to play happy family… how about a kiss for Daddy?" _Let's see her put that in her news story!_

She gasped at his audacity, feeling her heart beat a bit harder as he stared at her mouth, waiting. "Oh, I bet you wish…" she whispered, unable to stop her eyes from dropping to his blue lips curling craftily at their corners. They looked as lean and smooth as his hands… _Gah! I wish he'd stop doing that! _Flushing yet again, she kicked herself for riling so easily when his teasing should have spurred her into greater composure. _Why is that so much easier to pull off when I'm tied up?_

"Ms Ritchi, what am I doing wrong here?" Minion called from across the room.

Another amused chuckle rose in the throat of her taunter, but he picked up his pot from the sink at last. "Maybe another time." The black eyebrows lifted knowingly at her before he turned away. _This is quite pleasant! Maybe having her stay wasn't such a bad idea after all._

The smooth voice seemed to slide over her like silk, making a few nerve endings in shocking places fire all at once. "Don't hold your breath," she shot back before plopping her container of squash pieces into the sink harder than necessary. "Actually, on second thought, go ahead!"

She turned on the water before going to check on Minion, feeling more flustered than ever. "And make sure those potatoes are on high heat," she demanded, attempting to play his own game and pretend she was on top of the situation. She barely missed seeing Megamind salute her with a click of his heels, trying for yet another reaction.

"Look at this stuff."

In a saucepan a lumpy brown mass bubbled, dangerously on the brink of burning. Pulling it off the heat, Roxanne yelped as her bare hand touched the handle.

"Oops! Be careful! You're not wearing gloves, you know," called a voice from somewhere behind her. She glared over her shoulder before addressing the fish.

"I'm… not really sure what happened, Minion. This is how my mom made gravy. I think. Maybe it's supposed to do that. Thicken the broth and… um…" She got the cookbook and quickly found the page wishing he'd simply bought a couple jars of the stuff. But no, _Sir_ had insisted he make use of their kitchen, Minion had told her, and that all the food be homemade and traditional. _Of course, the turd._ "Did we…?" As she stood trying to figure out what they'd done wrong, the voice sounded again closer behind her shoulder.

"Why, Roxanne, it almost looks like… you _don't_ know what to do."

She turned half around to see the gloating villain was standing nearer than she expected, crowding her in fact. "Of course I know what I'm doing. I just forgot the- Will you stop crowding me!" She addressed Minion, suggesting, "Try turning down the heat and stirring it faster, Minion. Maybe that'll break up those lumps. And could you step back?" she requested of the person behind her. "Pleeease?" she added sarcastically.

"Certainly," he answered agreeably, doing what she asked and adding, "I only wanted to tell you, I think that's full now." One long blue hand indicated the sink where her pot was not only overflowing but effectively stopping the drain as well. Water was just beginning to pour over the side, forming a small lake on the floor.

"Ah! Why didn't you turn it off!" she yelped, scurrying over.

"Well! I thought you knew what you were doing," he answered with pretended innocence, rocking on his heels, his hands behind his back. "_I_ certainly don't know how to cook!"

"I hate to say this, but I think this is burning," Minion called out.

Having wrenched the handle closed, her head dropped for a moment as she took a deep breath. "Do I seriously have to orchestrate everything in this kitchen for the self-proclaimed greatest mind in the city?" She looked up at Megamind. "If you'd just told me sooner or shut it off yourself, there wouldn't be water all over the floor. Therefore, you get to clean it up."

"Oh hoho, I don't think so. I do _not_ clean! And not even _you_ are going to make me, Miss Bossy Pants."

For once she was too frustrated to argue as he called for yet another brainbot. She returned to Minion instead who had given up stirring and was now lifting the spoon and sadly dropping globs of blackened gravy back into the pan. A very unpleasant smell rose from the mess. "Ok, look. We're going to have to redo this later. Gravy shouldn't take too long. Just… dump that."

"Sorry," the fish answered dejectedly.

"You don't have to apologize," she reassured him. "It's not your fault."

"Really? Wow. It's not your fault," he repeated slowly. "I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure of hearing that phrase before," Minion added with a pointed glance toward his friend who was overseeing the clean up effort with arms folded across the bolt on his chest. The green eyes stared back coolly for a moment.

Roxanne hefted the pot of pumpkin pieces and hauled them to the six-burner stove. She wondered what time it was as her stomach gave a lurch and seized up, gurgling in a painfully empty sort of way. Thinking ahead to what still needed to be done, she felt a sense of despair. Rolling out piecrust, mashing potatoes, something with those cranberries, stuffing? _What the hell time is it? Those are the ingredients for stuffing, aren't they_, she questioned herself desperately. _Another recipe to look up. Why the heck didn't Minion just pick up a box or two? Even Mom cheated on that one. No. Now don't start blaming him._

As she glanced toward the pile of bread, her gaze fell on something else as well. "Oh nuts. We haven't even started the turkey yet," she murmured, eyeing the pale carcass. "Minion, how big is it?"

"Looks like he's about 16 inches tall… and…"

"No," she smiled. "I mean how much did it weigh?"

"Oh! I see. Well, I noticed it had a tag that said 21 pounds."

"I told him to get the biggest one he could find," Megamind mentioned proudly.

"So how long is it going to take to roast?" Roxanne wondered aloud.

Minion seemed a little unsure. "I saw something in the book about 30 minutes."

"Half an hour? For all that?"

That didn't seem right. Her little one serving potpie had required at least that long to bake. Surely an entire bird was going to need more time. "Which page…" They turned to the table of roasting times for poultry and read it, then looked at each other. "Minion," she whispered. "That says 30 minutes _per pound_!"

Despite her attempt at keeping the gaffe between the two of them, the blue ears perked up immediately. "Per pound? But… that means it'll take over seven hours!" The black brows dropped down over glaring eyes fixed on the mortified fish. "_You-_!"

"Megamind, shut it!" Roxanne snapped.

"But I'm starving!" he whined loudly, clutching his stomach with a grimace. "I'll _die_ before it's ready! Why didn't you start it sooner?"

"We're all hungry," she spat back, feeling her patience stretched thinner by the thought of waiting so long and his telling question. She should have known. If she really knew what she was doing. "And… no thanks to you, I was a little distracted! I can't think of everything at once!"

"My blood sugar is dropping. I can feel it going down… bottoming out," the evil genius groaned, holding a hand to his head as he stared at the floor. "Soon I'll be comatose…"

"Good lord! Is he like this all the time?" she asked the embarrassed fish.

"Like you care," Megamind pouted. "I'm sure if you came across me dying by inches somewhere, _you_ probably wouldn't even bother to help."

"Help someone who constantly kidnaps me in order to threaten my life?" she quipped. "Actually, you know what, I probably would. That's how I was raised. Not that you'd deserve it," she muttered, turning away to try to figure out what to do with the impossible poultry. "But you're not going to die of hunger, so for now you're on your own."

Straightening up, he crossed to the bowl of cranberries draining on the countertop. "On my own. As usual. _I_ raised myself! I'll just have to take care of myself. No big deal. I've only been doing it my whole life," he sniffed. "And who cares." Grabbing a small handful of the red berries, he tossed a few in his mouth.

Roxanne had already tuned him out and was thinking rapidly when a sound of gagging and spitting made her spin around again.

Megamind had emptied his mouthful of fresh bog berries back onto the countertop and was pawing at his tongue, trying to further rid himself of the taste. "What are those?!" he asked incredulously, eyeing the small reddish fruits in disbelief.

"They're cranberries," Minion replied, startled at his friend's reaction.

"You must have picked out rotten ones, you senseless can of tuna!" The pretty fruits didn't taste anything like the solid mass of sweet red gel that had been served on the trays as part of the typical holiday meal in prison.

"I did not! They're fresh as can be!"

Roxanne snickered. "Cranberries are pretty tart until you cook them and add sugar."

"Well, you could have warned me!"

"Don't blame me! I didn't know you were going eat them like that. That was your own stupid fault. Now stop messing around and start helping." She pointed at the turkey. "The sooner we get this thing in the oven the better. Ok," she took a breath. Why did roasting a turkey seem so impossible? _People do it all the time. So can I_. "Now. There should be some, um, parts of it… like, uh, I think the liver and gizzard… inside the cavity."

_Ew._ She remembered that part clearly. Looking at the bird askance, she glanced up and noticed from the expressions of the other two that they were at least as revolted by the idea as she was. "Megamind, reach in there and get those out."

"WHAT?" The green eyes flew open. "Stick my hand inside that…" He backed up. "Why me?"

"You're the man of the place, right?" she challenged. "Where I come from, the man does the dirty work. And never complains," she added dryly.

His lip curled in disgust. "Well, where _I_ come from…" He stopped with a shudder, his hands drawn up near his chest. "Look, just… cook it in there." The long fingers flitted toward the bird. "We're only going to be eating the outside of it anyway."

"You can't do that. They're in bags. You want melted plastic in your food?"

Turning slightly green, he cringed and turned to his sidekick. "Minion," he commanded, pointing at the offensive object.

"Ooh no. Not this time, Sir. No way." The fish looked more determined than Roxanne had ever seen him before, flatly refusing to comply with a shake of his head as he continued to stare at the uncooked poultry.

"_Min-_ion! I am not asking! I'm _telling_ you." Megamind glowered at his sidekick severely.

The fish only continued to stare, shaking his head and taking a step back.

"Oh, come on, you wimp. I gave you those hands, and they're only metal anyway."

"That's not fair!" The poor creature finally met his boss's gaze. "You know they're fully sensored. Just thinking of sticking my fingers inside that-" He turned his face away, eyes tightly closed while his boss rolled his own. "BLEH!"

Roxanne pinched the bridge of her nose with a sigh. "Wow. This is impressive. The two toughest convicts in the city… scared of a dead bird."

"Oh yeah?" Megamind lifted his head high. "Let's see the little woman do it then. I thought you had more of the feminist spirit about you, Ms Ritchi. Thought you could do anything a man could do. Looks like those independent ideals can be brought a bit lower when faced with a job you don't care for, eh?" He knew how to push her buttons, and backed into a corner the way she had him now, he was prepared to do just that in order to get out of the repulsive task.

Roxanne's scowled as they stared each other down once more. "You're only saying that to get out of it yourself, you turkey."

"Turkey! I'm a turkey?" Slouching, he seemed to be in disbelief that he was being compared to the flaccid corpse before them. Then he pulled himself upright again. "Well, you're a – you're a – a _cranberry_!"

Roxanne laughed brightly. "A cranberry?" she asked in disdain.

"That's right. A cranberry," he repeated, his high cheekbones glowing pink. "On the outside you look sweet and delicious, but inside… you're _bitter_."

Taken aback, her mouth fell open. "I am _not_ bitter!"

"Oh, I think you are. There's something about all this," he gestured around the kitchen. "That really gets your… your dander up!"

Her mouth snapped shut. "You mean besides being dragged here against my will?"

Minion blanched. The lack of food was really getting to them. He'd watched the two trade insults and banter before, but this was taking it to a new level.

"Besides being held captive in this stupid kitchen with nothing to eat? My own meal left at home without even having gotten a single bite of it?" Her hands were flying around now as she got louder. "You mean besides being forced to cook a meal for someone who takes advantage of me _every damn week_!"

Swiftly she turned and with hardly a pause rammed one hand deep into the turkey. She yanked it back out again clutching a pink and bloody looking bag of unknown parts. A long, grisly neck protruded in a curving arc from between her fingers as well. Seeing it, the two cons forgot their alarm over her sudden spate of fury and turned their heads away to gag.

"There!" She slammed it all into the pan beside the bird. "Are you happy now?" Then glancing at her gore-smeared hand, she moved to the sink and began to wash vigorously.

Both alien faces leaned forward to peer at the disturbing bits of flesh. Minion grimaced and quickly withdrew again, but Megamind openly stared. "Look at that, Minion. They cut off its… And shoved it… up there. And they say _we're_ immoral!" he half whispered.

"That's the neck," Roxanne corrected from the sink without turning around. "That was always my dad's favorite part. If you can believe it."

"And you just pulled _that_ out of… Oh, that is just obscene."

Roxanne paused in her washing to shake her head and laugh to herself a moment. For some reason she suddenly felt drained of her anger, but she wasn't sure if she was going to cry or break out in a fit of manic giggling. _He's right. Low blood sugar._ _How did I end up here? With these two? Today? If I'd just gone to the Scott's… no. That wouldn't have been better._

She looked around for a kitchen towel and seeing none, asked Minion for one. As he moved to get it for her, her long time captor turned to look at the gutsy reporter with undisguised respect and thoughtfulness.

Something he'd said had really hit home. Even more than he'd expected. And he suspected it didn't have to do so much with himself and his goading as with her experiences of this holiday. He wanted to ask her why she was so angry, so unhappy about a day that he would have thought held memories of happy family togetherness just as she had mentioned before. But fearing being rebuffed, he subsided, concern and curiosity stuffed down once more. He had his own issues with these seasons of supposed joy, and he wasn't about to start a sharing session that might lead to her famous nose sniffing out his personal problems to be broadcast on the evening news. Even though part of him longed to open up, another part shrank away from the risk of making himself so vulnerable. And maybe appearing even weaker than he feared he already was.

She was drying her hands thoroughly on the towel Minion provided, not looking at him. "So. You got what you wanted after all."

He said nothing. She sighed tiredly, and he found it didn't please him at all to have gotten his way.

"Ok, so just put that thing in the oven."

As Minion moved to lift the heavy pan as she requested, Megamind mentioned, "Don't bother. I couldn't possibly eat that now."

If looks could kill, her blue eyes would have turned him to ash on the spot.

"I couldn't bring myself to eat something that had… a _thing_ like that inside it!"

"It was the neck! I told you that! And all turkeys come that way. If you've ever eaten turkey, you've already done it."

"But I've never had to _see_ it before. I'll never be able to purge that gory vision far enough from my mind to enjoy-"

"Put it in the oven," she coldly commanded Minion who was still holding the roaster uncertainly, looking from one to the other. "He's _going_ to eat it." She glared at the blue alien who folded his arms.

"Oookay…" Minion replied, carefully moving around his boss toward the oven. As he passed by, one slender arm shot out and flipped the entire roaster out of his hands, sending it clattering along the floor and the turkey sliding away as well. One of the brainbots who had remained in the kitchen flew down to examine the sad white object as it skidded to a stop.

Roxanne yelled, "What are you doing?"

Megamind stood aloof. "My kitchen. My food. We're not eating that."

"OH! I could-" Words failed her. She was hungry and tired and frustrated and fed up with this infuriating blue person that gave her such mixed up feelings. "You know what? That's a perfectly good turkey. A huge one! Even if you didn't want it, you could have given it to someone who did. There are hungry people in this city that can't afford food like that."

"Not my concern." Maybe it was hunger was making him cold and angry. He knew he was being mean and irrational and just couldn't seem to stop. And he was tired of trying to deal with the confused emotions he felt just as much as she was.

"Do you care about anybody besides yourself?"

"No! And why should I?" he spat angrily, tired of hearing how others had it so much worse. No one bothered to think of how things were for him. "Who cares about _me_?"

"I DO!" she yelled back. "Obviously! I'm still HERE!"

Shocked, he said nothing in reply.

_Why did I say that?_ she thought, feeling her face grow hot again, whether from anger or embarrassment she didn't know.

"Uh, Ms Ritchi?"

"SHUT UP, MINION!" both called out together.

"You're here. Hurray. I don't know why though, Roxanne. You act as though you can't stand me, and besides that it's become obvious to me by now that you really have no idea of-"

"Ok! Yes! The truth is I don't know how to cook."

"Ah ha! I knew it!" he couldn't stop himself from crowing.

"But I'm trying!" She ignored his mockery with an effort. "_You're_ the one sabotaging everything. When I'm trying to help you!"

"I didn't ask for your help," he sneered, resisting the softer feelings attempting to struggle free inside him. She _was_ trying. Without even knowing what to do. She could have just told Minion she couldn't or wouldn't and left again.

"Well, Minion did!"

"Um, you guys…"

"Minion, will you just _wait_!" Roxanne shouted again. "Don't you care about him?" she asked, gesturing back toward the sidekick behind her. In the back of her mind something told her she ought to be paying attention to whatever it was he was trying to tell her, but she ignored it. "Don't you care if he gets a nice dinner? Maybe he wants turkey! Maybe he deserves it."

"Actually, I think I could pass on the-"

"Oh, of course. You're here for _Minion's_ sake. He's the one everybody feels sorry for. Having to live with me." His face seemed pained. "I'm the one who's always insisted we give you the day off."

Roxanne frowned at him. "Why?" she demanded. "Why do you do that? I have never understood that."

"The potatoes are burning!" Minion finally shouted.

Roxanne turned to look, argument forgotten. The potatoes were the only part of the meal left that still seemed salvageable. But not anymore. "Quick! Run some cold water over them!"

As she and Minion tried to stop the burning, they stared into the pot, soberly examining the scorched chunks at the bottom, telling each other it wasn't that bad while Megamind looked on. Jealousy rose up tight and painful in his chest seeing his best friend able to interact with his favorite victim so easily. He wanted to continue their argument. There were things she'd said he wanted to know more about and things left to be said, and he wanted to get it all hashed out. He wanted her to pay attention to him. He watched as his sidekick began to mash the salvaged dish.

"No turkey, no stuffing, burned gravy, bitter cranberries… and now you've ruined the potatoes I spent all that time peeling too."

"They're not ruined. And anyway, you had a brainbot do most of the peeling. Admit it."

"I will not. I did it myself." Seeing her unconvinced, he sniffed. "Never mind. I don't like potatoes anyway."

Roxanne stopped in the middle of unwrapping some butter and slowly looked at him. "What did you say?"

"It's true," Minion sighed, working away with the masher. "He never eats potatoes."

"Then why the heck are we making them?"

"Because that's part of a real Thanksgiving dinner," Megamind answered unfeelingly.

She stared at him blankly for a long moment. Beside her Minion shook his head as he continued to do his job without question, knowing there was no use trying to talk sense with his boss. Finally Roxanne spoke. "You know what? You _are_ eating these potatoes."

"Oh no I'm not," Megamind answered, bracing himself for another round of arguing and feeling his spirits lift. Why _did_ he get such a kick out of fighting with her like this? It wasn't because he always won, because he didn't, but… she was such an enjoyable challenge. He almost couldn't hold back a smile at seeing how upset she was becoming again.

Roxanne narrowed her eyes. She could feel the steel coming into her spine and could almost hear in the background the music of an old spaghetti Western scene with two gunfighters preparing to face off. Slowly she reached over and stopped Minion's work with a hand on his hairy arm. He looked her way in surprise.

"That's it," she quietly told Megamind. "I've had it with you. We made these potatoes…" she said, stabbing a finger at the pot, "to eat! Not just to look at. And you're going to eat them."

Suddenly he chortled, folding his arms confidently. Oh, he loved that spunk! "Uh uh. No way."

"Yes way," she answered, reaching into the pot without taking her eyes from him and lifting out one handful of white mash like a messy snowball.

"Ms Ritchi!" Minion exclaimed in alarm.

Megamind only laughed merrily again. What did she think she was going to do-?

Roxanne flung the potatoes at him as hard as she could, hitting him square in the forehead, speckling the side of his face with smaller bits.

He jumped, laughter immediately silenced. "You – you threw…food at me!" He tried to look up at his head, crossing his eyes in the process.

"Thaaat's right," she answered, her mashed potato smeared hand held ready at her side. "And there's more where that came from."

Suddenly he was a little angry. And embarrassed. He glared at her as he swiped the mess from his head and flung it to the floor. "You rotten little cranberry," he said, watching her face closely as he tried to think of ammunition he could use. Nearby sat the bowl of detestable fruits so he picked it up, clutching it to his chest with one arm and grabbing a handful of the ovular berries. "There is no way I'm eating those now!"

Suddenly she turned, sinking both her arms into the huge pot as far as she could reach, lifting out a massive pile of mash, muttering, "Oh yes you ARE! Even if I have to shove them down your skinny… blue… _throat_!"

Eyes widening, he began pelting her with cranberries in rapid-fire desperation, seeing her shoulders barely flinch under the attack before she turned around again, hands full of whipped scorched vegetable, fury in her eyes, launching herself at him full speed. She didn't have far to go, and he didn't even try to move out of her way as he dropped the bowl to hold up both hands in self-defense.

Potatoes splattered everywhere as they collided. Berries rolled underfoot, being smashed into a juicy mess they were soon slipping on. Minion stood gaping, seeing the two locked in hand to hand combat, the reporter muttering determinedly that she was going to make him eat the food that so far she was only succeeding in smearing all over his face and neck. He feared at first that the plucky little lady had pushed his friend too far this time, but as the two suddenly lost their balance and fell to the floor, Minion realized the sounds emanating from his boss were more of the highly amused than the highly irritated variety.

Now that they were down, Roxanne continued to scoop up piles of mash that had fallen to the floor, attempting to stuff them further into the blue face, until the barely identifiable sounds the prostrate fiend was making grew louder and she realized he was laughing.

She stopped and stared, kneeling over him as she was with her hands pinning his shoulders, taken aback by his reaction. His back arched as his amusement grew to the point that tears began to stream from the corners of his crinkling eyes, sliding around the bits of potato stuck here and there. _He's laughing_, she realized in amazement.

Sensing her pause, he reached out quickly and grabbed some mash himself, smashing it against the side of her head and into her hair before collapsing backward again and laughing even harder.

"Ah!" the reporter gasped. But her anger had already evaporated and she was already on the verge of joining in with his hilarity herself. The whole situation was so unbelievably ridiculous and seeing this mad criminal brought to tears by it all, she couldn't help but begin to see the humor in it too. She swiped the floor once more, getting a handful of potato goop and squished berries, taking the opportunity to stuff them into his wide open mouth while he was unable to do anything about it. Finally a genuine chuckle escaped her. "You snot," she told him, watching him splutter and spit with a garbled chuckling. "I should make you eat that turkey too."

"No!" he spat and gasped in alarm, seeing her lean back and grab the bird by one greasy leg where it lay on the floor.

"Fine!" she answered, half laughing with him now. "Then I'll make you wear it! Like a hat!"

"Ahhh! Get that thing away from me!" he yelled, pushing at the huge carcass she was trying to fit onto his even more hugely bald pate. Soon they were merely wrestling again until they collapsed, both crying with laughter, helpless to do anything but lie in the mess of berries and mash and bird.

"What a way to have Thanksgiving," Roxanne finally said as the out of control emotions died down.

"Oh," he gasped weakly, hauling himself halfway up on his elbows with a satisfied smile. "That was by far the _best_ Thanksgiving meal I have ever had!"

Roxanne smiled back with a short laugh.

"Well I think you're both insane," Minion muttered from across the room where he still stood, watching them grumpily. At first, the sight of them on the floor locked in close contact had been so shocking he wasn't even able to bring himself to try to intervene. But then, seeing them laughing about it all... "You mean we did all that work just to ruin everything? What are we supposed eat now? I'm starving too! My stomach's a lot smaller than yours, you know! And look at the mess! Of course you're going to tell me I have to clean it all up and-"

Listening to him go on, the two people on the floor glanced at each other. Then suddenly both began pelting the sullen fish with whatever food around them they could get their hands on.

"Hey! AHhh!" Minion covered his bowl with his hands, but realizing the attack wasn't about to abate, he grabbed a bag of rolls from the cupboard and ripped it open, raining down pieces of bread on them like little grenades. Soon the room was ringing with laughter and the thuds of food flinging once more.

* * *

"What a god-awful mess," Minion mentioned. Sprawled on the floor as well now, he looked around at the chaos spread in every possible nook and cranny, on every surface, even on the ceiling. The three were well covered in food too and sat resting with slightly stunned but satisfied expressions.

"Yes, get right on that, Minion, won't you?" Megamind answered loftily, lying flat on his back, hands behind his head. Hearing the other two beginning to make noises in protest, he laughed. "I'm just kidding! I'll have the bots in in a minute to clear it all away. It is about time you had a day off."

"Oh! Well… thank you, Sir." The tumultuous events of the day had apparently provided a healing salve to his friend's troubled spirits. The fish had rarely seen him looking more relaxed than he did now.

Not far away sat their guest as well, spent and limply looking about, apparently unconcerned about the food that covered her. Far from being upset, she appeared to be quite relaxed too. Almost. "I am _starving_."

Megamind groaned as he pulled himself up from the floor. "Me too. As fun as that was, I don't think I got a single bite of any of it."

"Except potatoes," Roxanne teased.

"Noooo. Not even those. I spit them out! You saw me!" She continued to laugh at him until he asked, "What?"

"Well its definitely _on_ you even if it's not _in_ you!" she replied, pointing at his head where a lump of gravy sat at a jaunty angle like a tiny hat.

With a smirk, he reached up and felt it, swiping it away as he mentioned, "You're one to talk. Nice hair." One side of her usually smooth locks was standing straight up, styled in place with something no longer edible.

Roxanne could only imagine what she must look like as she patted the area he pointed to, rolling her eyes. Then she looked down and began to wipe at some food on her chest as well. "Yeah, I'm starting to get a little crusty here."

"Me too," Minion said, lifting his arms up and down. "Not too good for the joints."

"Well, let's clear out and let the bots do their job. And we can call for take out." Then he suddenly seemed to remember that Roxanne's presence there wasn't entirely normal. In course of the day and even in the aftermath of their argument and food fight, having her around had just begun to feel familiar. And although now he felt sure he would be glad to have her stay longer, maybe she wouldn't be entirely amenable to the suggestion. Minion was looking her way questioningly too.

"If there's somewhere I can clean up, I'll stay for take out with you. Since that's what I'd be doing back at my place anyway," she remarked with careful casualness. "As long as you don't mind."

"Of course!" Then he frowned. "What do you mean, if there's somewhere you can clean up? What do you think we are, barbarians? We do have a bathroom!"

Roxanne had begun to laugh at him again. "Stop it," she pushed at his arm. "I'm not arguing with you again. Quit trying to pick a fight."

His scowl faded into an impishly attractive grin. He stood up, feet slipping a little, and held out a hand to help her up as well while Minion creaked to his feet. "Minion will show you where. Just follow him. Brainbots!"

As they made their way out of the kitchen, dodging the cyborg crew flying in, Roxanne heard Megamind giving them their orders. In the doorway she glanced back over her shoulder just in time to see a bot lifting the turkey from the floor.

"Um," its blue boss thoughtfully commented, "Just clean that up really well and… uh, deliver it to that shelter on sixth," he whispered.

Smiling to herself, she followed Minion out the door.


	3. Run Up the White Flags

She certainly wasn't completely at ease, but she didn't exactly feel threatened either using the private facilities of the city's most feared convicts. It wasn't like she could imagine either of them busting in to take advantage of her in her vulnerable state despite their reputation and their record. She knew them better than that. At least, she thought she did. But it was that tiny bit of doubt fed by remembering a few of the more choice exchanges in the kitchen that moved her to clean up as quickly as possible and then dry off while still behind the shower curtain.

She sniffed the towel with mild curiosity and looked at it with interest. Minion must have developed at least a few domestic skills. It smelled of the cleanness of laundry soap, and she couldn't quite imagine Megamind disrupting his work to take on such a menial task as loading a washing machine or dryer. Holding the towel out for a better look, she rolled her eyes slightly at the blue lightning bolts scattered over the black background before wrapping it around herself.

And now that she was finished she realized there was another problem that hadn't occurred to her, being highly distracted at taking in the surroundings of the dastardly duo's living space. She hesitated, not sure what to do or how to address her need. The thought of putting the food-encrusted clothing she'd been wearing back on was extremely loathsome, but soon she decided she had no other choice and stepped out of the shower, looking in vain for any sign of a hair dryer as well.

There was a knock at the door. Her eyes widened, clutching the towel more tightly around herself, wondering who was outside. She waited for a voice but not hearing anything cracked the door just enough to peep out, keeping the bulk of herself carefully concealed behind it.

A bot waited, hovering patiently, holding a carefully folded stack of familiar looking garments. It extended them toward her with a metallic bowg then zoomed away as soon as she'd accepted the bundle. She glanced up and down the empty hallway before withdrawing inside to dress. _Minion_, she thought and smiled, looking down at the clothing in her hands.

* * *

"I like that sweater you're wearing, Ms Ritchi."

"Thanks, Minion," she answered, glancing down at it. "It's one of my favorites." She finished the last bite on her plate before adding, "But maybe you already knew that since you picked it out. Thanks for going to get a change of clothes for me. Very thoughtful."

Minion had risen and was beginning to clear away containers and napkins scattered around the table. "Oh, I didn't do that. That was-"

The clearing of a throat followed by a stern glance silenced him.

"Are you finished?" he asked brightly instead, taking her empty plate.

Roxanne glanced toward the table's other occupant. Megamind sat lounging in his chair, his satiny blue cape spread out under him, one leg crossed over the other, picking casually at crumbs on the table and avoiding her gaze. She looked away again. _Not Minion_. Then how many other times had it been 'not Minion'? What else had she been wrongly crediting to him all along?

"And," the fish mentioned. "I just wanted to say, I am sorry about kidnapping you today."

Roxanne had to smile. "No harm done. I honestly haven't had this much fun on Thanksgiving in a long time. Even if it was... a little unconventional."

Pleased that she wasn't angry, he grinned back at her.

Megamind sat listening, perplexed. Why would a wreck of a day like this be more enjoyable than a family affair full of happy feelings and delicious food? He wanted to ask but once again his insecurities seemed to have gotten a stranglehold on his tongue. They sat in mildly awkward silence until Roxanne spoke up.

"Thanks for not tying me to my chair."

Minion paused in his clean up efforts, shocked that she would even suggest they might think of doing such a thing, but Megamind was amused sensing her sarcasm. "This isn't a heist. And I assumed that being over the age of seven you had manners enough to know you're supposed to stay at the table instead of getting up to wander around looking at everything."

"Well you did warn me about being too nosy." She didn't bother to hide a chuckle. "Seven? Is that how long it took you to learn to stay at the table?"

"Well… yeah."

She looked back at him thoughtfully and then was startled to realize he was dead serious. "Did they actually tie you to a chair?"

He shared a glance with Minion before answering. "I suppose they had to find some way of making me stay where I should." He saw her expression and misinterpreted it. "I was an active child! With an extraordinarily active mind! It was hard to stay in one place for very long. Yes, even for meals."

Roxanne couldn't stop herself from imagining it. And feeling sorry for the small blue inmate. Seven years old. "I believe you, but… that's practically child abuse. No one should tie a child up. I don't care who he is or where he lives."

He only shrugged in response, apparently thinking nothing of it.

Minion chimed in as he took the trash away, "That's how we grew up."

_No wonder he thinks nothing much of tying me up. _Her eyes roved around the table as her mind worked rapidly. Then she looked up at him again with the beginnings of a smirk. "So how long did it take you to figure out how to get out of their ropes?"

The grin that slowly grew on his face seemed involuntary. "Not long," he admitted lightly. "But if I did work my way out of them, they'd simply find new methods of tying." He explained how he'd learned to hide the fact that he could escape at will in order to keep things simpler for himself unless he felt like entertaining a new challenge. He saw her shake her head, imagining it. Then he added, "For a while I expected you to figure out how to get out of my bonds too and was continually surprised that you didn't."

Roxanne couldn't help feeling a little flattered that he thought she would be capable of making her own escapes and at the same time little abashed that she hadn't. "Well, I'm not a big-headed blue genius, am I? But… maybe I did," she suggested mysteriously. "And just never let on. Like you."

He smirked, pointing a finger at her. "But that would mean you'd _willingly_ stayed to participate in our little game, and if you keep leading me on to think you actually enjoy being here in my company…" He leaned back, openly flirtatious. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to make of that."

"Anything to get the story," she demurred with a smile and a shrug.

_Ah yes, always getting the story_. Megamind looked down at the table again, his enjoyment of their mild banter suddenly subdued by the way she'd deflected his tease. He didn't want to acknowledge how much he longed to be more than just a story to her. The moment stretched on again as he failed to make a comeback until silence reigned uneasily once more.

_Something I said turned him off just then_, she realized. Why was it so much easier to engage in banter in the course of being restrained and threatened than now, sitting down at a table with her nemesis? She felt out of her element being around him without obvious threat, outside the game they usually played. Glancing his way, she realized maybe he felt the same.

She began to look around again, taking in details about the space that the two apparently called home. The setting was hard to place, and it had the feel of unused space in some odd way. Although the furnishings looked right, they felt wrong – cold and foreign somehow. Even to Megamind. He didn't seem particularly comfortable either. There was no sense of coziness, warmth, home. She realized the kitchen had been much the same. It looked perfect in the way a perfect kitchen was laid out for a television set or in an industrial setting, but any sense of it being lived in and loved and _personal_ was missing. Even more than some bachelor pads she'd been in were so obviously missing a woman's warm touch, this place felt cold.

Part of the feeling probably came from the fact that the space was so large, the ceiling far overhead. She assumed the building must be huge. A warehouse? That's what she'd been guessing all along. Or maybe they were in a different building than he used as the base for his evil operations. She didn't recognize any details around her, but hadn't he griped earlier that she was in his lair? Looking around, she became aware of her fingers tapping lightly on the tablecloth, a habit she had at work when she was deep in thought. Work. Now there was a bastion of familiarity in this odd situation and she clutched onto it immediately, her mind beginning to form everything that had happened into the semblance of a story.

She was squinting up at the oddly shaped windows set high in the walls opposite her when she heard him command, "Shades."

Several bots immediately flew to the windows to place obstructions over the openings, blocking any view out or in. Megamind smiled at her apologetically. "Can't have my _guest_ trying to figure out my secret location, now can I?"

"Old habits die hard," Roxanne responded with an apologetic lift of her shoulders.

"How well I know that! But since this isn't work… We are supposed to be enjoying a holiday meal here as… family?"

She gave him a look.

"Friends?" he suggested next, tipping an eyebrow at her but only seeing her respond in kind. "All right, acquaintances at least, let's say. And since I am hosting you in my… home," he drew out the word as though it wasn't a very good fit for the area he gestured around briefly, "I assumed we'd be able to set aside our differences and professional curiosity for now at least. In order to be able to let our hair down." His eyes flitted briefly up toward his head. "Such as it is. Or should I expect to see myself mentioned on the evening news again? Game on as usual?"

She thought he seemed a little put out at the idea that she would use this time against them. And she felt abashed being caught out because he had a point. _Everybody needs a day off, even him. And everybody needs the privacy of his or her home respected too._ Suddenly feeling a little guilty, she folded her arms on the table in front of her and leaned toward him. "Ok. I'll make you a deal. You let me go home whenever I ask, and I promise that anything said here will remain in confidence. Off the record entirely."

"Entirely?"

"You can tell me anything you want, and I won't breathe a word of it."

"Including anything you see," he stipulated further.

"Agreed." She stuck out her hand.

He hesitated, looking at it and asked, "Can I trust you?"

She bridled but held his gaze. He wanted to know if _he_ could trust _her_? As incongruous as that seemed, she immediately thought again of his childhood behind bars. How much had he learned not to trust? "Yes. You can trust me. I promise."

Slowly he put out his own hand and tentatively grasped hers, moving it up and down. He hadn't put his gloves back on, and she found herself staring at those blue hands again. Suddenly he was spreading them open palm up in front of her on the table. "Go ahead. You can look at them."

Her eyes flew up to his. "What?"

"You've been staring at my hands, Roxanne. I just thought I'd save you the trouble and grant you permission to examine them outright."

Heat rose to her cheeks and an apology to her lips but she held it back, thinking it would only make the situation more awkward. Instead she adopted his own matter-of-fact attitude and after a moment's hesitation, reached out to take his hands in hers and examine them as proffered. Not wanting to seem cold and clinical about such a personal offer, she tried to touch him the way she would a friend. And she saw and felt a change come over him as she did, seeing his hands slowly relax under her fingertips, from being displayed flat and rigid until they lay curled slightly in her palm.

She was thinking about his otherworldly heritage when she heard him mention wonderingly, "You're not afraid to touch me."

She looked up to see him frowning slightly, confounded. "No. I'm not afraid to touch you. Why would I be?"

"You never have before. And most people are. People fear the unknown and what's so obviously… different," he shrugged. "I suppose they think I might be dangerous to them in some way. Like one of those poisonous blue frogs."

"Uh! You're hardly a frog!" she blurted forcefully. "You're a… person. And thinking that people who have a different skin color are… that's… ignorant," she answered, surprised at feeling more than a touch of indignation. "And whatever we are, we're not exactly strangers. I'm not afraid of you. If you were going to hurt me, you would have done it by now."

He looked down, feeling a little deflated. So she'd noticed. Well, she would have by now. Should he try to push her to the edge of danger more? He didn't want to put her too far in harm's way, though Metro Man could probably be relied on to get her out of any situation he could come up with in time. He had so far. Megamind sighed. He was found out. A magician whose audience knew his act was a sham.

"Which… I appreciate that you haven't," she added quietly, noticing his dejection.

He looked up, not feeling very reassured. "Well, we're just full of thanks today, aren't we?"

"Tis the reason for the season."

He paused, glancing away then back to her. "Thank you."

"For…?"

"Staying. Being our gracious guest."

She wasn't sure if he meant for the day or for his career. But she smiled. However odd the reason, it was nice to thanked. "I wasn't really very gracious," she conceded. "You know. In the kitchen."

"I did egg you on. A little."

She half-chuckled at his understatement. "Well, why do you pick fights with me all the time? You know you do."

Megamind suddenly looked self-conscious. He shifted in his seat a little as his eyes quickly moved around the table, avoiding hers, seeming to want to think of some excuse other than the truth… until finally they looked up, wide and innocent into hers as he admitted, "I know, but… it's the only way I can get you to talk to me."

Roxanne blinked, just managing to stop her mouth from dropping open. "Oh," she whispered. Of course. The way he was looking at her gave her another glimpse into the mind of that boy in the prison, wondering at the circumstances of his life. Wondering why he had to be so alone, why no one wanted to talk to him or be his friend. Or touch him.

She suddenly felt a bitter rush of sadness course through her. _Oh, stop it, Roxanne. This is Megamind. Incredibly evil…_ She couldn't even finish the thought. Couldn't turn back from this new way of thinking, especially with the way he was sitting there looking at her like he was waiting for her to laugh. It was no use trying. Her heart seemed to have undergone some physical change in that moment of the two of them staring at each other.

"So… compared to what we're used to, that was just a bit of fun. More than a bit," he huffed a small self-conscious laugh. "It was a lot of fun."

Yes, they weren't used to being treated much differently than what she already had dished out. It was what he was used to. And the food fight… although she had actually been angry at first, he had enjoyed the banter and the contact immensely because… it was all he could get.

Unwillingly the thoughts intruded, the connections made themselves – shut away from society, without family, tied in chairs to make him behave, all his interactions with others used against him… and those things so ingrained in his life they had simply become expectations. The more she was forced to realize what he'd been through, the more she wanted to show him how different things could be. She couldn't help wondering if seeing the difference might make a difference in his life too. _Don't get your hopes up,_ she told herself pragmatically as soon as she dared to wonder. But she did resolve to start treating him better, to make the effort of seeing him as more than the city's most annoying and persistent villain, from that point.

"You can look at my hands if you want," she offered, realizing they were still sitting there holding each other's fingers lightly.

"I have been," he answered, tearing his eyes away from hers to look down at her digits resting in his. He barely dared to move his own fingers along them, contemplating them, and when he spoke again his voice was so much softer he could barely be heard. "They're beautiful..."

Swiftly he looked up, alarmed at himself, and slid his hands away from hers to put them under the table. "Sorry."

With a blink she stared back but rallied with a weak smile. "Nothing to apologize for. Um, thanks." She folded her fingers together in front of her on the table, resisting the urge to pull them out of sight and hide them the way he had his own, as though they had come too close to crossing some invisible line.

He crossed his arms and tapped his fingers along his biceps, glancing around as though desperately looking for something. Luckily Minion returned just then.

Roxanne asked with purposeful brightness, "So! What made you suddenly decide you had to have a 'real' Thanksgiving today anyway?"

Still not certain of how much to confide in her and unsettled by his brush with honesty, he paused. "It was something to cross off… you know, that list."

"The bucket list?" she guessed after a moment.

"Yeah," he answered, looking over at Minion. "It just seemed like it would be nice to have a real Thanksgiving like everybody else for once. Prison holidays aren't exactly cozy."

Like everybody else. In her minds eye she could see them as lonely children and then discontented adults behind bars, concrete block walls and hard floors, a bare toilet, a cold bed, the cafeteria. "No, I don't imagine they would be," she agreed, compassion welling up for the pair again. The longer they all sat at table together, the more she was seeing them as just two displaced people instead of evil incarnate bent on ruling her hometown. "But not everybody celebrates like that, you know."

"Don't they?"

"Why were you at home alone today, Ms Ritchi?" Minion butted in.

"Yes. Good question."

Both convicts were gazing at her expectantly and with no small amount of curiosity as well. "Well, like I said, not everybody celebrates in the way you're thinking." She could see they had some idea of the perfect holiday scene straight off of a greeting card or a Hallmark special. "Some people make their own traditions instead. Take out isn't that uncommon. Some people want to just enjoy a quiet day off without so much work." She held up a hand as Minion opened his mouth. "You already apologized." She went on as he subsided again. "I haven't had Thanksgiving with my own family the way you're probably thinking of it in years."

Megamind cleared his throat. He happened to know she hadn't been home for a holiday for some time. He'd just chalked it up to her independent spirit and dedication to her job, but after noting her reactions in the kitchen… "And why is that? What were your family celebrations like?"

Eyes dropping to the table, Roxanne's mouth twisted to one side as her thoughts turned inward. "Probably not what you think." Then she rolled her eyes and sighed aloud with a shrug. "Yeah. At one time we made the feast and did all those things. Well… some of us did."

She found herself reminiscing aloud, remembering what an angry teen she'd been seeing her father and brother lounging the day away in front of the television while her mother slaved in the kitchen with never a word of thanks from them. No appreciation for what she did day in and day out without a day off. And she had resented the expectation that she would go to the kitchen and learn to do the same. It was no wonder she sympathized with Minion's situation. As her verbal memoir trailed away, she realized, _he's right. I'm a little bitter_.

Megamind was watching her. "I guess this wasn't much of a family type of gathering for you then besides the way I inadvertently seemed to be assuming your father's role."

_Yeah, he got it_, she realized. "Seemed pretty normal actually. Well, mostly."

"Even with all the arguing?"

A crooked smile crossed her face. "Eh heh… we argued at home! Do you think I took it all lying down? You know me better than that." She watched his face relax into an acknowledging smile. "Especially when I hit those fun teen years. Anyway, all families fight with each other."

"They do?"

"Yeah, every family I know does. They argue and fight and… and they get over it mostly. At least the ones who want to do." She watched him frowning, realizing that he had no idea how a family would act. "All those Norman Rockwell scenes? That's just what we all hope it'll be like, but the truth is… we ought to be happy to…" she sobered, seeing him listening to her carefully. "We ought to be thankful to have family at all."

_Which he doesn't. And never has here._ She knew about how he arrived on earth, although she didn't know why. Apparently that info hadn't been released or he had never told. Maybe he didn't know. Was he an outcast? Sent away because of some danger to him? Or from him? Was he unwanted on his home planet too? No. He'd been an infant. Had they… infected him with something? Sent him here to contaminate earth's population? Mentally she dismissed the far-fetched conspiracy theories. She watched him staring down at his plate and ventured to gently ask. "Is your family ever… coming here? Coming back for you?"

For a long moment he didn't answer, then he seemed to sigh. She saw his lips move, his answer almost inaudible. "No."

That one word held such sorrow that her heart immediately sank, and when he looked up, his wide green eyes somber and full of unexpressed loneliness staring straight into hers, she felt tears prick her eyes and felt miserable for even thinking what she just had been. She swallowed against a lump in her throat and glanced at Minion too who stood nearby, stricken as well. "I'm sorry," she quietly answered.

Megamind immediately shrugged it off. "What about the Scotts?" he asked to distract himself from the feelings her last question had aroused and intrigued by the hints she'd given away about her own family's interactions.

Roxanne looked at him, sensing his genuine confusion about why she hadn't been there in her usual capacity, not really surprised he knew about her visits. She didn't care to give away just how deep was her reluctance to be their guest was all. "Um, it just didn't work out to go there today." She picked up her wineglass, nearly empty, and swirled the last of the red spirit around slowly. "And… well, it's not that great dealing with the pressures of family gatherings."

_Pressures? _What kind of pressure was she under from them?

The fish and alien looked mildly confounded and even slightly concerned. She found their presumptuousness naive and touching somehow. All they wanted was to have a happy family holiday for once, the way they thought _everybody_ had one, a cliché that they'd never had the experience of seeing disproven. "Anyway, the point of the day is to be thankful for what you have, no matter where you are or who you're with."

"Well, I'm thankful that Sir and I have each other." Minion's sudden smile encompassed his friend before turning to their guest. "And, I'm also thankful you stayed today, Ms Ritchi, and gifted us with your company. Um, against your will. And despite how everything turned out."

Roxanne's laugh was genuine. "Oh, Minion, I told you. It wasn't so bad." She shrugged and gestured with her wineglass. "What did we do? We made food, we had a fight, we ate. Sounds like a pretty normal holiday to me," she chuckled.

"Yeah… yeah, you're right!" Minion agreed brightly. "Sir, I think we had a real Thanksgiving after all!"

"I guess we did," he answered in mild wonder.

"So what else do people do, Ms Ritchi?"

"Oh, well, a lot of times they watch football for the rest of the day." She noted both of their expressions register mild distaste. Not football fans apparently. "Or maybe watch a movie or play games-"

"Games?" Megamind suddenly perked up. "What kind of games?"

She was immediately on alert. "Uh. Well, we used to play a lot of cards."

"Cards it is!" he announced definitely with a gleam in his eyes. "Are you familiar with Poker?"

"Sure I am."

"Siiir…" The tone of Minion's voice warned against shenanigans ahead. He turned to the reporter. "He counts cards."

"_Minion_!" the blue convict hissed before adjusting his attitude quickly and giving a nonchalant shrug. "Doesn't everyone? I just assumed-"

"You _know_ not everyone does!" the fish countered hotly. "By the time you were ten, _no one_ would play with us anymore!"

Megamind pouted and folded his arms across his chest.

Roxanne watched the exchange with amusement. "How about Spoons? That was always one of my favorites when I was a kid." _And there's no way to count cards in that… I don't think._

"Spoons?" Megamind's nose wrinkled skeptically. "Is this a trick to get me to do the dishes?"

"No!" she laughed. "It's really a game! And it's easy. Even _you'll_ be able to play," she teased and grinned as she saw him roll his eyes with a huff. "Got a deck of cards, Minion?"

"I sure do! And I think we need to make this more festive," the fish suddenly decided, buoyed up by her reciprocating smile. "I'll go get some more wine!"

Megamind was looking at her, thinking about her choice to be at home alone. She had preferred that to joining in the festivities with her boyfriend, surrounded by warmth and wealth? "What are you thankful for, Roxanne?"

She toyed with her glass a moment, thinking about her options for the day. Being with Wayne's parents and trying to keep up the pretense of being a couple or being with her own frustrating family. Or being here, with the city's ostracized alien residents, about to teach them a simple card game. Finally she looked up again and into his eyes intently. "I'm thankful… for the unexpected things that keep life interesting."

"Oh!" The blue face appeared frankly surprised and pleased before settling into a suave smirk. "Well! Seeing as how you seem to enjoy our company so much, we might have to have a little encore performance at Chris-Mess too," he proposed.

She smirked back. "As I recall, that's one holiday that's never been off limits anyway."

He grinned naughtily. "True."

"So what have you got planned for kicks next time? Are we going to burn down a Christmas tree?"

Megamind hummed as though pretending to consider the idea attractive, making her laugh again.

_What is happening here? How can I be enjoying his company more than…_ And the way her entire view of them had begun to change. It was too easy to see that they were as much victims as antagonizers of the society they continually harassed. _It isn't only that though. I… I'm actually enjoying being here._ Looking at Megamind, she could see that he was pondering the change that was almost palpable as well. Her gaze fell to the table once more as she thought again of touching his hands.

"So, Ms Ritchi," Minion asked eagerly as he returned, pulling the cork on another bottle. "How do we play Spoons?"

* * *

They played round after round, passing cards faster and faster, cracking each other up. At first it was easy to fool them both, sneaking a spoon while they were intent on keeping up with the passing while trying desperately to be first to make a set. It didn't take long however for the two newbies to pick up on her sneak attack idea and come up with different techniques for trying to grab a spoon first. As the wine kept being refilled in their glasses, Megamind seemed to find it increasingly difficult not to crow aloud when he got one, setting off a mad scramble between the other two, on one occasion sending the spoons and wineglasses flying off the table completely.

Between the relaxing effects of the alcohol making her laugh more than usual and the fun of watching two grown men who pretended to be hardened criminals play a children's game with the enthusiasm of squirrels in springtime, Roxanne's cheeks grew tired and her sides ached from laughing until finally she called for a break.

"No! No, seriously, I'm done," she laughed when they pressed her to play one more round. "But that was fun."

"You can't stop now. You're ahead! I need a chance to catch up!"

She giggled at the wide green eyes protesting so seriously. "Guess you'll just have to deal with the fact that I'm quicker than you."

"Oh hoho! I don't think so! I just haven't had as much practice as you yet!" He reached over and captured one of her hands with lightning speed, holding it firmly. He looked down at it before glancing up at her from under his lashes. "And I had no idea your hands were as sneaky as they are lovely."

Still feeling the influence of the alcohol and the freedom of being herself and enjoying their banter as well as their mutual competitiveness, Roxanne leaned closer to murmur back, "I bet there's all kinds of things my hands can do that you have _no_ idea about…"

The emerald eyes widened and one corner of the blue lips twitched upward in delighted surprise.

_Whoa. Ok! Too much wine. Easy, Roxanne_. She felt herself blush as he held her gaze and stroked a finger softly over her knuckles, making her heart give a convulsive leap. Glancing down at their hands, she gave his fingers a squeeze before gently pulling her own away.

Minion was gathering up the cards with a smile, missing the tension of their interaction in his mild state of inebriation. "Well, how about a movie? What were you watching when I picked you up? I could go get it so you can see it here with us, or-"

Megamind cleared his throat. "I think… that Ms Ritchi would probably like to go home now, Minion."

The little sidekick's face fell, but Roxanne agreed reluctantly. "He's right. I should probably go." She glanced up at him again, but he wasn't looking at her anymore.

"Oh." All the happiness drained from the fish's toothy face, and she felt an urge to hug him.

"The movie was The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. Classic western. You guys should see it if you haven't. I bet you'd like it."

"Well, maybe we'll do that," Minion answered, trying to be positive in light of her leaving. He was already missing her.

"Seems like we've seen that today already," Megamind mentioned, motioning to each of them. "The good… the bad… and the ugly."

"Who're you calling ugly?" Minion demanded.

"You, fish-face."

"Boys…" Roxanne chuckled, shaking her head. "Just like family," she declared in amusement.

"So this _is_ what families are like," Megamind commented. "See, I knew it!" he told Minion, standing up from his chair in triumph. "I knew there were evil families around!"

Roxanne only laughed harder, her eyes crinkling. "I have to admit, you two take the cake! Even the most evil families don't kidnap guests for dinner."

Megamind's thin smile seemed to curl all the way to his ears, lending him a mildly wicked expression as the black brows lowered over the smoldering green orbs fixed on her. He put his fingertips together and moved around behind her chair. "Ah! But if we didn't, we'd never have gotten to enjoy your charming company, my dear." His hands rested on her shoulders.

Roxanne's amusement faded as she found his nearness and the tone of his voice affecting her in that way she found discomfiting and arousing at the same time. _Why does he do this to me? _Becoming more serious, she turned her head slightly to ask over her shoulder, "Why do you insist on being bad?"

Surprised she would even ask, he eventually answered, "It's what I do. Why I'm here." He thought everyone understood that and accepted it as concretely as he did. What was she suggesting? "There's good. And evil." He stopped. "And I'm evil."

It hadn't occurred to him for many years to try to be anything else. And the thought that she might think there was any other possibility left him feeling disturbed. He'd put the disappointment of failing to be good behind himself a long time ago. And he didn't want to revisit those painful feelings anymore. It was certainly time for her to leave. As she sat pondering his declaration, he leaned down to murmur into her ear, "And don't you forget it."

As she turned her head to answer, the corner of his lips brushed her cheek just before Minion delivered a shot of knockout spray with a quick hiss.

* * *

Waking up on her couch, safely back at home, the hum of the refrigerator seemed overly loud. She lay still a moment, looking around, the quietness of her empty apartment seeping into her brain_. Now I know how Alice felt, tumbling back out of that rabbit hole._ For a second she wished she'd taken Minion up on his offer. She tried to imagine the two of them here, lounging on her couch,complaining about their spikes digging into the furniture. Minion not even needing to sit on furniture. Laughing over a movie or…

Returning to reality, the smile faded from her face. _Come on, Roxanne. You know it can't be like that._ They couldn't all just start being friends. Her heart ached a little.

Pulling herself up, she walked into the kitchen to fix a bowl of her favorite ice cream. She stared at the phone a moment, thinking of calling Wayne and asking if she could join them for the rest of the day after all. It was only late afternoon. She picked it up and hesitated, then dialed.

"Mom? Hey. Yeah, how are you? Happy Thanksgiving to you too…" Cradling the phone on her shoulder and the bowl in one hand, she went back to the couch to restart her movie, hoping to shake the feeling of emptiness that had swept over her.

* * *

His boots slapped lightly along the concrete until they stopped at the kitchen door. The few bots left inside were finishing up the cleaning, one pushing a mop here and there. The room was spotless, not a trace left of the food fight that had taken place, and he suddenly felt a keen sense of loss.

A single cyborg flew to him, carrying an item it didn't recognize. Reaching out, he took it thoughtfully… Roxanne's oven mitt. Smiling down on it, he turned to walk away again, lifting it to his nose and breathing in deeply before holding it tightly to his chest.


	4. Chris-mess Eve Capers, Part 1

"So what do you think?"

"I like it! Not exactly wicked, but it is a little sneaky!"

"I only wish we could see her face when she opens it the second time."

"One thought, Sir. Do you think we'll be making her uncomfortable? I mean, I think in polite society if someone is given a gift, they expect to be giving one in return too. She'll be caught unprepared. And I think that might bother her."

"Hmm… Well, I'm sure I can help her think of something to give me in return…"

"Siiir… now… "

"Oh, simmer down, Minion. I'm only kidding."

"Well, I don't want to scare her away."

"Scare her away? We are talking about Roxanne Ritchi, right? This is the woman we try to scare every couple of weeks. Mostly unsuccessfully, I might add."

"Yeah, but this is different. I happen to like the idea of having her over once in a while. Not often, you know. And definitely off the chair. But think about it. Thanksgiving was actually _fun_ for once. And it seemed like she was enjoying herself too. And since she was kind enough to stay… and the two of you were getting along so well… I thought, if we treat her nicely enough… you know, maybe she would sort of warm up to the idea."

"Oh yes, I know. You've been indulging in a little fantasy of actually making _friends_. On the side as it were."

"Well… it worked out before…"

"I have my doubts she'd want to take the time to know me – er, us, any better than she already does."

"Well, just don't do anything I wouldn't do. That's all I ask!"

"Never fear, my anxious ichthyoid. I'll be the perfect gentleman."

"Somehow, Sir, I'm not completely reassured by that."

"Ohhh, Minion. Trust me."

"I was afraid you'd say that."

* * *

"…This is Roxanne Ritchi, reporting to you live on this beautiful Christmas Eve morning from the Scott Center Christmas Tree on the Square… Have a wonderful holiday!"

As Hal lowered the camera and favored her with a saccharine smile and fawning compliments, the reporter looked back once more at the giant pine decked out in Christmas finery soaring upward into the blue sky. It was a gorgeously sunny day. Behind a short wall the temporary skating rink the city erected for the public's entertainment during the coldest weather of the year was full of playful skaters slipping and sliding on the ice. Up and down the street, people busily scurried here and there finishing last-minute shopping. A dusting of snow had fallen overnight, giving the artificial glitter on the Scott's annually donated tree a run for its money competing with the sun's diamond-hard sparkle bouncing off every object in sight.

"So, you going home for the holiday, Roxie? Cause if not, you know, you're always welcome to come back to my place after work and… I'll take you home with me." Hoping to make the offer sound kindly, his leering grin and bedroom eyes ruined the effect. "My mom makes a mean stromboli," he cooed temptingly. "And I'm sure we have an extra bed… mmm, somewhere, that you could use for the night."

_Ick_. "It's nice of you to offer, Hal," she answered before turning back around. "But I've got the Christmas Eve party tonight. Mandatory attendance, you know."

"Oh yeah." Hal slouched with a pout, hearing that she was still planning to attend the exclusive event the uber-wealthy Scotts hosted every Christmas Eve. He certainly wasn't on the guest list. "Don't need a date, huh?"

Roxanne chuckled and leaned her elbows on the top of the half wall behind her, closing her eyes and lifting her chin to the sky, determined to soak up a little more of the wintry sunshine before they headed back to the office. "Hmmm, no, not really. Thanks anyway."

"Or an extra bodyguard?" he inquired sarcastically.

The reporter opened her eyes and smirked. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

Scowling, the cameraman complained, "Look, it's probably none of my business...except that, you know, I really care about what happens to you... but we all know what's going to happen! Every year the Scotts invite you to that party, and you go. And every year Megamind crashes it. And tries to kidnap you. Then Metro Man shows up and saves the day. Wow. Big surprise." He grimmaced at her. "Don't you think that show's gettin' a little old?"

"It's a tradition," Roxanne shrugged. "People expect to get the lowdown on the Christmas Eve party like they expect us report on the NORAD Santa tracker. We all know what's going to happen, but..." She paused. "And you never know. Maybe things will be different this year."

"Yeah, right." The cameraman gave a scornful laugh.

She ignored him and recalled the blue alien's intimation that they might have an encore of their unexpected get-together with a sense of anticipation and even a twinge of excitement. She couldn't help wondering if the dastardly duo might decide to change things up this holiday and how. Hal was probably right though. It was probably too much to think they'd break out of the routine entirely. Megamind certainly seemed to be a creature of habit despite his determined attempts to ambush everyone. Which was part of what made their previous meeting all the more genuinely surprising.

She had found herself thinking about the two scoundrels often in the past few weeks, contemplating what she'd learned. Reminding herself not to use the information at work was something that had often frustrated her at first as she continued the frequent news reports on their activity. Her point of view of them had definitely been colored by their shared experience at Thanksgiving. And contrasting the beginning of that unorthodox day with the rest of it… she almost hoped they _would_ come up with something unexpected for Christmas. Traditions were nice, but there was a lot to be said for shaking up the status quo.

As for Megamind, when his wily schemes resumed post-Thanksgiving it was only the occasional secretive smile she caught directed her way before he quickly composed his face again and the more carefully and considerately tied ropes she was bound with that seemed to betray any sort of change of heart he may have had since their meeting. He certainly wasn't taking it any easier on her otherwise. His efforts to push her safety to new limits had even made her catch her breath a few times like she hadn't done since they first met. And yet, she'd never felt safer. There seemed to be an intangible sense of trust in the air between them now. And when she thought about him holding her hands just before that last meeting had ended, she felt her cheeks grow warm. Like now.

Roxanne chided herself. Things just felt different because… well, because they were different. Another side of the pair had been revealed and although she was determined to honor her promise not to make any of it public, it affected her personally. And having had a taste of it, she couldn't help wanting to ferret out more which required more of those private meetings._  
_

She hoped Wayne hadn't noticed anything different. Not much danger of that though. He was always well wrapped up in himself. Although... he had been more attentive than usual lately. He was pushing the overtures of public romance about as much Megamind was pushing the envelope as far as appearing to put her in danger. And she'd been finding it supremely irritating. It really was time to have that talk with him. _And speaking of irritations…_

"You'd think by now Metro Man could see it coming and like, just head him off at the pass. Or whatever. I'm just saying, you, know if it was me... I think I'd just tell them, 'Hey! No thanks! I'll pass on being the pawn in your little game this time.' I mean, come on. You've been their -"

The griping continued as he turned away, making the routine check of the camera equipment. Roxanne tuned him out, turning back to watch the skaters gliding here and there, squinting slightly into the sun while the frosty air bit at her nose and cheeks. She was trying to remember the last time she'd enjoyed the rink herself as a whip-thin figure bundled in a long coat slowly gliding her way slipped and sat down hard beside the wall under her nose.

"Oh! Oh gosh, are you ok?" Reaching over the barrier, she held out a hand. Judging by his unsteady efforts to rise, she guessed the man to be elderly, pushing the limits of his abilities being out on the ice.

"Oh yes. Not a problem," he replied calmly, head down as he unsteadily tried to gain his feet again. "Happens all the time."

It was hard to tell his age, bundled up as he was in so many layers, a scarf wrapped around most of his face and a furry hat on his head, but he felt stronger than she expected as she grasped his arm. "You need to be careful! I was afraid you might have hurt yourself. Do you want to come out and rest? There's a gate just over here."

"No, no… Can't stop now. Haven't made it all the way around yet. That's my goal. At least once around the whole rink, every year. I used to do more but… now it's just for the memories." He paused. "Used to take a lot of spins around this rink with my best friend back when we were young. I'm afraid those days are past. But," he sniffed. "I'm going to keep up the tradition as long as I can, even without Minny by my side any more." Finally upright, the man lifted his head to gaze wistfully at the other skaters.

Roxanne made noises of commiseration over the loss of happier days, wondering if she ought to ask what had happened to his partner.

"It's getting harder to do alone now, you understand," he added.

"I'm sure it is," she agreed soothingly.

"I… certainly wouldn't say no if a lovely young woman offered to steady me along today, eh? Help out an old man trying to keep a tradition alive? Never know… it might be my last time."

"Roxanne?" Hal called out from behind her, suggesting it was time they got going.

"Be there in a minute, Hal." She returned her attention to the gentleman who waited by the wall. Maybe he was a little embarrassed at the request seeing as how he still hadn't met her eye, standing there watching the other revelers on the ice. How could she say no? "I don't have my skates with me."

"Oh, that doesn't matter. See?"

He was right. Some of the people on the rink simply wore street shoes, some boots. Many had come prepared with skates but not all. And then noticing him pointing down at his own feet, she saw protruding from under the cuffs a pair of slender feet encased in black leather boots. They looked very familiar.

The reporter frowned before glancing back up to see the man watching her craftily from the corner of eyes a most vivid shade of green.

"You-"

The spritz of gas took effect so quickly she was still standing upright as he swiftly redirected her downward momentum, easing her forward and over the low wall she'd been leaning against. "Now then, my dear… Just a quick trip around to the other side of the rink… heheheh… Minny's waiting!"

Slipping an arm around her waist, he held her upright so that she appeared to be his willing partner, feet sliding and skating along beside his like many others in the ring. Her head rested against his shoulder as he slipped easily around half the circumference of the oval to the gate on the far side and disappeared through it.

Hal turned from the back of the van and looked toward the rink. Roxanne was nowhere in sight. _Now where has she gone_, he grumped. She'd been right there, talking to that old guy who fell down…

That was when he noticed the tree.

* * *

"Roxaaane…"

Opening her eyes and finding herself in her regular chair under the spotlight was a disappointment. They hadn't decided to deviate from the usual plans after all, she thought, seeing Megamind standing before her waiting. He looked different in some way her gas-doped brain couldn't quite put her finger on. Minion was present as well, standing to one side, holding a tray of drinks. _Drinks? I'm not that fuzzy-headed._ Then she noticed her hands resting in her lap. "Is this a social call?" she inquired, looking down and wiggling her unbound fingers in a telling fashion.

"Why yes. I did warn you a few weeks ago to expect as much."

"Warn me…" she repeated, amused at having to be cautioned about a friendly visit but pleased as well. Suddenly she put her fingers to her temple with a frown. "I'm supposed to be back at work by now. And, maybe we need to come up with a new way of getting me here when it's just a 'friendly' meet up, huh? Something besides the gas?"

"Oh." Megamind looked thoughtful. "Well, maybe." He wondered, noticing the way she was rubbing her head, if their formula was having side effects. Maybe it needed tweaked.

"Take your coat, Ms Ritchi?"

As she wiggled out of the sleeves and handed it to Minion who draped it over one arm, Roxanne remembered the old man with the green eyes. "How did you-" she began to ask, looking closely at Megamind's emerald orbs.

"How did I what?"

Her blue eyes narrowed. "That was you… wasn't it?"

"Me?" he asked with a smile, easily guessing what she was puzzling over.

"You know what I'm talking about. The old man. On the ice rink?"

"Ah! You mean 'James'…." His smile turned positively smug. "Mm, well, I think I'll have to call that score one for the evil genius!" Straightening with an undisguised look of pride, he added, "Was that yours truly? Or not?"

_He's still at it._ Burning with curiosity, she bit her tongue, recognizing that he wanted her to engage in a little battle of wits. And knowing even if she did, he still wasn't going to divulge how he'd managed to disguise himself, ginormous blue head and all. Or admit he'd had outside help. _How would he have gotten that though?_

She resorted to feigning disinterest. "Ok, fine. Don't tell me. Keep your little secrets to yourself, since they seem to amuse you sooo easily." Hearing a pleased little chuckle deep in his throat, she went on, "So to what do I owe the pleasure of yet another of these... dare I call them friendly visits? As if I couldn't guess."

Megamind glanced at his sidekick, noting the happy grin that appeared when the reporter used the coveted F word. Could she really warm up to the idea of having anything other than an antagonistic relationship with them? He had serious doubts.

"We wanted your help lighting our Christmas tree, Ms Ritchi," Minion was informing her pleasantly. "Hope you don't mind the imposition, but since we had such a good time on Thanksgiving-"

"Yes, Minion can be _so_ sentimental," Megamind butted in, rolling his eyes. "So I decided to indulge yet another of his whims." He shrugged, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible about having her there.

Minion held his tongue between his serrated little teeth. It hadn't been entirely his idea to compel her attendance this time. But Sir didn't seem keen to let the reporter know just how much he seemed to look forward to her company, and he certainly wasn't going to be the one to let that cat out of the bag.

Roxanne tipped an eyebrow Megamind's way. "I seem to recall it a little differently. Wasn't it _you_ who mentioned something about having me help with your Chris-mess tree…?"

"Eh heh." He cleared his throat self-consciously before unclasping his hands to wave them in the air with a little shrug. "Who remembers the details? Anyway! Since you are here now… how about it?" The hand he held out to her was bare of leather yet again, and she stared at it blankly before realizing he was offering to help her rise from the chair. As she gingerly put her fingers over his, she looked up, seeing a mischievous grin. "Want to help us _light up_ our tree?"

The twinkle in his eye seemed to confirm that he didn't simply mean to have her plug in the cord on a string of bulbs. And the brainbot that appeared behind him carrying a lit taper cemented the idea.

She suppressed the temptation to scold the pair over taking delight in the wanton destruction of innocent decorations. A month ago such she wouldn't have thought twice about being so snarky, but now she couldn't deny feeling a little flattered they had actually wanted her participation in what was probably going to be a singularly unique tree lighting event besides still feeling a little kindly toward the lonely outcasts. _I've never burned down a Chris-mess tree before… Christmas_, she corrected herself, chewing her lip slightly before answering, "Oh, why not."

Hand in his, she stood up, distracted by a keen awareness of his cerulean skin again. The thought of him willingly reaching out to her, this wary alien, made her smile a little and miss seeing his smile soften as well. She didn't miss noticing the way he lingered though, holding her fingers a little longer than necessary. "You can let go now," she suggested quietly. "I'm standing."

"I was just about to say the same to you," was his smooth reply, running a thumb over her fingers before releasing them. "But I didn't want to be rude if you really wanted to keep holding my hand." Seeing him tease with waggling eyebrows, she only rolled her eyes in return.

Truth be told though, she had thought about his hands a lot. Since that last holiday visit they'd resumed being hidden away in the spiky black gloves again. Until now. Baring them seemed to be some kind of signal, an indication of the intentions he had. Sort of his version of a white flag.

Minion interrupted her thoughts by clearing his throat. "Drink?" he offered. She hesitated, looking at the milky fluid in the glasses on his tray.

"It's eggnog," the fish informed her. "And, yes. I followed the recipe carefully."

With an apologetic grin she accepted one and only paused a second before venturing a sip. "Oh! It's good," she complimented him. "Really good!"

"See?" Minion turned to reproach his boss.

"Tsk. Apparently your last visit inspired my sidekick to explore more of his culinary side after all. Despite all the complaining he did about me asking him to cook."

As Minion held the tray his way, Megamind thought once more that drinks and eggs seemed unlikely bedfellows. "No thanks," he replied with a grimace.

"Oh come on, Sir. _She_ was brave enough to try it!"

"Your poorly veiled attempt to pique my pride isn't going to work this time, Min-ion," he answered. "Not where raw eggs are involved! I will pass." Instead he gestured toward a doorway, suggesting they move on.

"He doesn't know what he's missing," Roxanne assured the fish, sipping at her glass as she followed. The brainbot with its tiny flame trailed along behind. "So is this your usual M.O. at Christmas, or is this going to become a new habit with you two? Lighting up a tree and watching it burn while enjoying something cool and refreshing? It's really good, Minion; I'm totally impressed," she mentioned again, making the little pisces blush with pleasure. "Lots of people like to relax with a nice drink by a crackling fire during the holiday break, but they're not usually cremating their decorations."

Ignoring the compliment to his friend, Megamind smirked over her remarks as they emerged from the corridor into a space vast enough to accommodate a tree the height of which nearly rivaled the one the Scotts had erected on the square. This one appeared unadorned.

"Oh ye of little faith…" the blue alien murmured as he turned to take the taper from his cyborg attendant. Wordlessly he offered it to her.

She shook her head, reaching for the slender stick, briefly concerned about how good the building's ventilation system was. "Okay… It's your party."

Pinching the end carefully, she walked forward and held the flame to the green needles. Something thin and metallic popping out unexpectedly from just inside the branch startled her. With a gasp she dropped her light to the concrete where it extinguished. She looked up again at the tree again, seeing a small claw holding a fine candle that had been set aflame on her taper.

More shining metal pincers appeared from inside the tree until the whole pine bristled with them and the candles they held. The flame spread like wildfire, passed between each with amazing speed. As their candles caught flame, the brainbots waiting amongst the branches opened their eyes, the lights of both eyes and tapers swirling up and out from Roxanne's starting point to encompass the entire tree. The bots' ocular bulbs had been reset to their master's favorite shade of blue instead of ominous red, and the gleam of candlelight reflected on metal alongside the softer and more natural spark of tiny flames made an unexpectedly pretty sight.

"Oh wow…" Staring, Roxanne stepped back until she bumped into something.

"You really thought we were going to just burn it down, didn't you?" the low voice asked near her ear. Megamind was once again at least as delighted with her reaction as he was with the final effect his plan had produced.

"What? I mean… yeah. Yeah, actually I did. But this!" She gestured toward the unorthodox tree. "I have to admit. I'm impressed. This is actually… wow. It's like a… a steampunk Christmas tree!"

As she turned his way to comment further, her shoulder bumped his chest and she felt a hand rise to touch her back, steadying her. _We've had more contact in the past month than we have in all the years we've known each other combined_. She forgot what she was going to say as her gaze drifted over his features regarding her from an unnervingly close distance. She was used to his tendency to suddenly invade her personal space in the course of playing her role as a hostage. Why did it feel different when she wasn't tied up?

She suddenly asked, "Did you know that before bulbs were invented, people used candles to decorate their trees just like this?"

"Of course I did." His rejoinder lacked its usual lofty disdain. "I have read Dickens. That's where I got the idea."

Minion was positioning a high-backed upholstered chair behind her, and Megamind motioned toward it.

"Really?" she replied lightly, sitting down with her drink and thinking that when he wasn't trying to sound like a self-aggrandizing jerk, his normal speaking voice was actually quite easy on the ears. She'd noticed it when they had their impromptu heart to heart at the table four weeks ago too. Very smooth. She had to wonder if he cultivated that tone on purpose. There were times during the kidnappings when he obviously did, teasing to get a rise. She knew she was a sucker for a sexy voice, but she also knew how to hold her own. "Did you read that in school?"

He gave her a look and saw her grin in reply. His brief but notorious school career was public record that he was sure she was familiar with. "You know I didn't. But I did spend a lot of time in the prison library when I was young. Contrary to what everybody probably assumes, I didn't spend _all_ my time thinking up mischief and mayhem with which to terrorize the masses." He turned his gaze away from her blue eyes up to the lights glowing nearly the same color. "I've always wanted to see what a candle-lit tree looked like. That's all. And we don't usually bother taking the time to put one up since thanks to your boyfriend, we're usually spending the holidays at _home_."

She thought of the stark prison cell and felt a little guilty. Then felt impatient with herself for feeling guilty. _They are the most infamous criminals in the city after all! _she reminded herself.

"So when you insinuated we'd burn one down… well, that made this the perfect opportunity to try it out. I'd get my wish and prove you wrong at the same time." He was unable to hide a mysterious smile. "We do have a little culture about us, even though we may be woefully lacking in experience when it comes to these simple customs."

"I think it turned out beautifully, Sir." Minion piped up happily. "And possibly one of your most successful plans to date judging by Ms Ritchi's reaction." He winked at the reporter. "We got you this time, didn't we?"

Roxanne found the friendly fish's grin infectious. "You did," she admitted. "I was very pleasantly surprised. It's lovely."

"Too easy," Megamind pronounced the simple plan while planting his fists on his narrow hips, looking inordinately proud of himself. "I had no doubt you would be stunned by my stroke of brilliance. The big problem with candles on trees of course is the danger of fire. But by using the brainbots, problem solved! And they provide additional decorative value as well." He looked even more smug. "Who else but I could have improved on a timeless classic?"

"Now if only we can keep you from climbing it," Minion commented under his breath. Seeing his boss all puffed up, he couldn't resist taking him down a notch.

"Climbing it?" Roxanne repeated, watching the slender villain deflate like a pricked balloon and direct a withering glower at his watery friend.

"Oh yeah. You see-" the fish blithely began, ignoring the warning look.

"Minion!"

"We weren't allowed to put up decorations in our cells, certainly not trees, but the inmates all got together once when we were still pretty little– I guess they felt sorry for us since we were just children– and petitioned the warden to put up a tree in the prison dining hall. And amazingly enough he did."

"Yes! Wasn't that nice? What a cute story. Now-"

"I'll never forget the look on Sir's little blue face when we went in for lunch and he saw it," Minion continued to reminisce, ignoring his boss's desperate attempt to derail the conversation. "It wasn't even that great of a tree. Really tall and skinny. Kinda scraggly looking. Must have been something they picked up at Goodwill or maybe a reject somebody donated, but we didn't know any different. I thought it was pretty cool myself, but he-!" Minion pointed to his friend whose pink cheeks burned below a dark scowl. "He almost forgot to eat!"

Roxanne sipped her drink in order to hide a smile, thoroughly caught up in Minion's story as well as finding the unspoken interaction between the two highly amusing.

"He just kept staring at it." Minion recalled seeing the pleased inmates grinning and nudging each other over the effect their surprise was having on the small boy before finally returning to their meal. "That is, until the guard's back was turned."

"What happened?" Roxanne asked.

"Ugh!" Megamind groaned, throwing up his hands and rolling his eyes over the childhood expose.

"He monkeyed up that thing faster than you'd think was possible!"

"He _climbed_ it?" Roxanne laughed. "He climbed a Christmas tree?"

"Well, he wasn't very big," Minion giggled.

"People have the strangest ideas about trees," Megamind huffed, folding his arms. "Ohh! It's winter! Let's chop down the last green thing on the landscape and drag it indoors and hang sparkly plastic things all over it until it's dried up and dead!" he ranted sarcastically, fingers twitching in the air. "Or what about that horrible song about sticking a baby's cradle up a tree and waiting for it to break the branch and crash down to the ground!"

Roxanne continued to laugh.

"The guards had a heck of a time getting him to come down again," Minion went on. "Knocked the tree over. Decorations everywhere. It was a total write-off by the end of it all. We weren't too popular with the inmates for a while after that. They had to clean it all up, but I think they were mostly mad because they liked having a Christmas tree too."

"Well, how was I supposed to know? To my six year old mind it seemed like the most obvious thing in the world that I ought to take the chance to climb it," Megamind insisted. "It's not like I'd ever been able to climb a tree before - have you ever _seen_ the prison yard? - so…" he sniffed defensively, folding his arms. "That's what I did."

Roxanne tried to hide a giggle behind her hand, holding back her laughter as she imagined the scene clearly. Obviously the blue terror was a little sensitive about having the more colorful tales of his boyhood innocence revealed. She opened her mouth to say something, but he whirled around on her.

"Don't forget our previous agreement!"

"Of course," she assured him, crossing her heart. "Your secret's safe with me. I was just going to ask if you ever got another chance to practice your tree climbing skills."

"No," he admitted thoughtfully.

"Well… there's a tree," she teased, letting her eyes sparkle at him and hearing Minion giggle.

He narrowed his eyes back at her. "Oh, ha ha."

"No, I 'm serious," she said.

"You'd love to see that, wouldn't you? Nice try."

"I'd like to see it," murmured Minion.

Roxanne winked at him. "Yeah, you're probably right." She shrugged, addressing Megamind again. "Probably fall out of it and break your arm or something."

"Oh please. I could climb this tree like that," Megamind snapped his fingers at her.

"Oh yeah?" Feeling playful, she pressed the issue. "I dare ya."

Gleefully enjoying the little contest, Minion looked on with a grin. This wasn't the sort of fun he'd had in mind when thinking of them spending time in their newly amiable association, but considering the two personalities he shouldn't have been surprised.

Megamind straightened his back and looked at her soberly. "You dare me?"

"That's right," she answered smoothly, crossing her legs and casually eyeing her glass before fixing him with a hard, direct stare. "I double dog dare ya."

"Ohhohoho…" he rubbed his hands together. "You're on!" Striding to the tree, he parted the lowest branches, disappearing inside.

Roxanne resisted the inclination to call out to him to be careful, saying instead, "No getting those brainbots to help you!"

"As if!"

She and Minion watched his progress, indicated by the shaking of branches and the winking out of the glow of bots' eyes as they turned inward curiously to watch their master go by. Suddenly out he popped near the top, throwing an arm wide. "Ta da!"

Minion cheered and even Roxanne clapped her hands once, laughing. "Ah, you did it, Sir!"

"Of course!" he waved his free arm wide. "I – ahh!" Wide-eyed, he grasped the top of the tree as it swayed alarmingly and then wordlessly started back down.

Having reached the bottom again, he reemerged grinning, pointing at Roxanne. "Challenge met!"

"Fair enough," she agreed with a smile.

"So now you should have to meet a dare of my choosing!"

"Wha-? I don't think so," she protested. "And anyway, it's the middle of the day and I really need to get back to work. I'm supposed to be back at the office by now, remember?"

While Minion awed his disappointment, his boss conceded, "Now, now, Minion. Let's remember the terms of this meeting. We shouldn't be keeping our _friend_ from her appointed rounds, sniffing out all the news that's fit to tell! I'll simply put that dare on hold for another time. We have to be gracious hosts. But that reminds me… before you go," he said to Roxanne, "The other reason I brought you here was to give you a gift." He wiggled his fingers impatiently back toward Minion who moved to retrieve something.

"A gift?"

"Yes. A gift," he repeated, widening his eyes in pretended innocence. "A Christmas gift. You've heard of them, I assume."

She gave him a patient look, and his affected naivete dissolved into a genuine smile. "Just a token of my appreciation," he assured her, holding out the small black box tied with blue ribbon that his sidekick had handed him.

As she tentatively accepted the offering, he waited, feeling a touch of nervousness and trying not to show it, hands clasped behind his back. He'd never given anyone besides Minion a present before, and he hadn't realized how bound up he act was in personal insecurity and uncertainty. He knew how it would look initially. But how would she respond? His eyes were fixed on her slender fingers touching the satin ribbon, and he wished again he would be able to see her reaction later on.

She began to slowly tug at one end of the bow. _What sort of present should you expect from a couple of lifetime convicts with no friends and no family?_ Although the hard-boiled skeptic in her warned that she ought to expect the box to contain something that might leap out and bite or at the very least give him a laugh at her expense, she willed herself to enjoy the moment, however briefly, and elbowed her doubts aside.

_Now don't be so cynical. This is promising. I've never seen him, er, them act… so friendly. Even more than at Thanksgiving. _She glanced up at his gaze fixed on the gift in her hands then quickly down again, avoiding meeting his eye_. I think he really wants some connection outside our usual 'bondage and banter' routine. _Suddenly her heart felt lighter_. Maybe I did him even more good than I thought. Maybe this is the crack in the wall that… _Even as she stopped and berated herself for being overly optimistic, she pulled the ribbon and began to lift the lid.

"Aw," she murmured as the glow of the tree touched the item in the box. Reaching in, she lifted from the tissue an obviously homemade bracelet. Her smile turned to a frown though as she examined the item more closely, noticing the unusual beads, dark and wrinkled between her fingertips. "Oh… What-?"

"Those are cranberries." One blue finger pointed.

"Oh!" she blinked. "How… um, unique." She looked up at him, the childishness of the gift causing her at first to feel a little embarrassed for his sake until he continued.

"Just a little reminder of the first holiday we saw eye to eye on… well, anything really. Not that you should expect this to become a habit. But I, uh," He shrugged. "I appreciated it… You know. That you stayed. For Minion's sake."

She dropped her gaze back to the bracelet in her hand to hide a smile, feeling smug at his transparency._ I see through you, Blue_. But the sentiment was far more sensitive than she would have ever expected from Megamind, Master of All Villainy, and she had to admit she found it touching. "Well, thanks. Both of you. This is sweet."

"Now, I'm sure you need to get back on the job. News is being made out there… even now…" He chuckled as though at some inside joke as he reached to gently take the box from her hands again while she sat pondering, not sure what more to say, somewhat overcome once again by the conflicting emotions and thoughts he'd stirred up. "Minion will just re-box that for you," he said, handing the gift back to his henchman with a significant look. "So it'll be nice and safe until you get home."

Minion nodded once and smiled, bearing away the little bracelet.

"Now, uh…" Megamind began, watching until the fish's apelike form had disappeared out an adjoining doorway before turning back to the reporter. "I've given you something. You're supposed to give me something in return, aren't you?" he asked.

"Oh." Caught off guard, Roxanne stammered. "Um… I…"

"Didn't you get me anything?" he pressed.

Mouth agape she stared at him. _Why am I not coming up with some snide answer? He's put me on the spot, and he knows it!_ "I- Well, I …didn't know you were getting me a gift. I didn't expect -"

"Ah. But friends do exchange presents though at Chris-mess, don't they? And we said we were going to be seeing you again."

She blinked blankly._  
_

"Oh dear," he remarked with exaggerated gravity. "What an embarrassing social gaffe for you. However," he went on, a thin, mischievous smile appearing on his lips. "I think I can help you out of it."

Immediately reminded that she was dealing with a wily character who wasn't likely to be quite as naive as some of his previous affectations suggested, she was disarmed by the way his voice sounded even lower and silkier than before and the way he fixed his gaze on her, one black brow lifted tauntingly as he moved to stand directly in front of her chair.

"I know something you can give me… my errant little cranberry…"

"I told you," she protested mildly, fascinated and a little nervous at seeing his change in attitude. "I'm not bitter."

He smiled again and smoothly eased the glass from her hand. "You can be rather tart though." Twirling the stem between two fingers a moment, he suddenly placed his palms on the arms of the chair, one on either side of her, leaning on it. "But I know how to fix that. You told me yourself."

Roxanne flashed back to seeing him spitting out berries while she explained they needed to be cooked and sweetened to be palatable. She swallowed and leaned back against the upholstered seat, seeing his face drawing closer.

"Now… wait-"

"Just turn up the heat," he murmured, eyes dropping to her mouth as he moved in.

"I thought we were-"

"And add some sugar…"

_Friends._ Her complaint was silenced by the touch of his lips on hers. Startled, knowing she shouldn't respond, she found her eyes slowly closing anyway as the pressure intensified and lingered.

He pulled away soon enough but left her heart thudding hard, riding a line between fear and excitement. She opened her eyes to see his still very close, their dreamy heavy-lidded gaze underlined by a crooked smirk. "That little dessert can be your gift to me," he quietly declared.

"Gift?" she huffed weakly. "That was stolen."

"So?"

"So it's not a gift if it's not freely given.

Riding a euphoric wave of victory, he dismissed her protest, straightening up again. "Keep in mind exactly whom you're dealing with, my dear," he reminded her. "I am a thief and a villain."

The reporter stared at him, at a loss for words pondering this naughty alien who wanted to make nice, giving her drinks and gifts, and yet stole kisses. She was snapped out of her reverie by the sound of Minion clearing his throat and lumbering into the room, box in hand. Entirely caught up in the exchange as they had been, they'd missed seeing him reappear in the doorway just in time to catch sight of his boss's face disappearing behind the wing of the chair as he leaned over the reporter.

Megamind whirled halfway around at seeing Roxanne's gaze focus behind him. "Ah! All set?"

The sidekick made no response as he handed the little present over.

"Now! Having _thoroughly_ enjoyed this cozy little holiday interlude, I'm sure you're ready for us to return you to your job, Ms Ritchi." He handed her the gift and then took her coat from his robotic friend, holding it ready as she stood. In a daze she turned her back to him and let him help her into it, hearing a murmur near her ear. "And don't forget. I'll be coming for you tonight as usual. Be ready."

The rattling of the can provided a reasonable sound effect for what was happening inside her, thoughts and emotions bouncing around in much the same way as the ball was mixing the contents of the knockout spray. Distracted, Roxanne tried to make heads or tails of his last comment and only realized what he meant as the gas hit her once more. _The party._

* * *

_Find me on Facebook to see what I've been up to. Thank you for reading._


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